The Dementors' Kiss
by Majick
Summary: When the Dementors abandon Azkaban to side with Voldemort, Harry offers to help teach the Patronus charm. It's just a shame that he doesn't know as much about girls as he does about magic... A complete fifth year story.
1. Chapter One: A Belated Birthday

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The Dementors' Kiss

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(Authors Note: This is Version 2.0 of The Dementors' Kiss, and will probably be the final revision. I first finished it back in February, began posting it at Gryffindor Tower in March, and have been carrying out minor edits since then. For this re-release, I have gone through the entire story, added the missing Quidditch Match, changed a few passages that didn't read right and generally tidied it up a bit. I hope you enjoy the result.)

Chapter One: A Belated Birthday

Harry Potter sat at the window of the smallest bedroom of number four, Privet Drive. Harry had lived in the house for most of the last fifteen years, and he always found it a struggle to remember a single time he'd enjoyed it.

The only thing he liked about Privet Drive was when he left it, left it far behind and returned to school. Harry was counting the days until he could return to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and as the ancient clock on his bedside table ticked onto midnight, Harry picked up a pen from his bedside table and crossed the number thirteen from the chart beside his bed.

Harry sighed. The fourteenth of August, and he hadn't heard from Ron, or Hermione, or any of his other friends at the school in a long, long time. The last message that Hedwig had brought him was a letter from Ron saying that Hermione had arrived at the Burrow from Bulgaria, where she'd spent several weeks staying with Viktor Krum. Ron's note had been short, but Harry could tell how excited his friend had been, mainly from the ink blotches scattered liberally across the parchment.

Harry had replied immediately, half hoping that Hedwig would return in time for his birthday, but he'd been disappointed. Unlike last year, when Ron, Hermione, Hagrid and even Sirius had managed to send him something, Harry had gone without on his birthday. He felt exceedingly lonely, Hedwig's empty cage only serving as a further reminder of how much he was missing, trapped here and isolated from the Wizarding world.

Harry leaned forward against the windowsill, resting his chin on one hand as the other automatically scraped back through his hair, his palm rubbing across the scar on his forehead. Right there was the reason why he had to stay at Privet Drive, rather than at the Burrow, where Ron's family lived. His scar was the legacy of an attempt on Harry's life when he was only a year old. Harry sighed, shaking his head as though trying to dispel any thought of his run-ins with Voldemort.

But Harry was lost, again, as he had been so many times that summer. Without an anchor to hold him, he plunged deep into despair. . .

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. . .as Voldemort used the Avada Kedavra curse on his parents. . .

. . .as he plunged deeper and deeper into the Chamber of Secrets, his heart stopping at the sight of Ginny Weasley, lying as though dead at the feet of Tom Riddle. . .

. . .as the Dementors closed in on him, ready to perform their fatal kiss. . .

. . .as Cedric Diggory lay dead at his feet, his life taken needlessly, his only mistake being at Harry's side. . .

Harry blinked, tears welling in his eyes as they always did when he thought of Cedric. It was a hurt so fresh, a loss so needless, that Harry still hadn't been able to find the words. Even Ron and Hermione didn't know how he felt about Cedric's death, how looking at Cedric's parents, or at Cho Chang reduced Harry to a mindless statue. He had been unable to attend Cedric's funeral because he couldn't leave the Dursleys, and Harry had felt a shameful relief that he wouldn't have to go through the torture all again.

Slowly, Harry's thoughts returned to the present, and he became aware of a quiet, insistent tapping at his window. He looked down, and gasped in delight as he saw Hedwig bobbing uncertainly in front of the window, accompanied by a brown owl Harry didn't recognise at first. He eased the window open, wary of the creaky hinges his uncle Vernon had kept un-oiled in case Harry was tempted to leave the house at night and upset the neighbours with his 'un-naturalness'.

The two owls swept over the windowsill and into the room, circling gracefully before setting down on Hedwig's perch. Harry boggled at the number of envelopes and parcels that the two owls had between them, and slowly it dawned on him that the owls had been all over the place, keeping one another company as they sought out Harry's friends and relatives.

Harry quickly filled Hedwig's water dish from the bathroom, and relieved the owls of their burden. Slowly, he sat down on his bed, unable to believe his eyes at the sheer number of people who wanted to talk to him. He sorted through the letters and parcels. He recognised Ron's handwriting, and Hagrid's. Sirius' handwriting was on one of the parcels, as was Hermione's. A letter bearing the Hogwarts seal would be information on his fifth year, while a number of the parcels and cards were from senders with unknown handwriting.

One of the parcels moved slightly, and Harry eyed it suspiciously, trying to remember where he'd left his wand. He looked at the handwriting, and frowned as he realised that the letters spelling out his name and address sloped alternately left and right. Then he grinned, as he realised that Fred and George Weasley were left and right handed. If a parcel moved, Harry mused, then it probably contained the latest Weasleys Wizard Wheeze. He resolved to open this parcel very carefully. It hopped a full six inches towards the head of his bed. 

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Very, very carefully indeed.

Soon, Harry's bed was scattered with torn wrapping paper. Sirius had sent him a powerful TrueSight Glass, which worked like a telescope, but with the added bonus of being able to see through solid objects. "It can be fitted with a charm to stop you seeing people where you shouldn't, but we think we can trust you," the accompanying note said. "You might try and keep it away from the Weasley twins, however." The note was signed Padfoot and Mooney, and Harry grinned as he realised that his father's oldest friends were reunited.

Hermione's present was a small red gem on a chain. The note explained that it would keep the wearer as warm as if they were safe in their common room, "ideal for those winter Quidditch training sessions," she signed off. A P.S. said that she was at Ron's for the rest of the holiday, and that Ron would be writing as well.

Ron's card was, as usual, covered with pictures of the Chudley Cannons Quidditch team. Harry suspected that Ron's loyalty to the Cannons had grown even fiercer when Victor Krum was rumoured to be signing for their local rivals. A slip of parchment, again scrawled in a hurry, invited Harry to stay at the Burrow for the last two weeks of the holiday, and to send the reply via Hermes.

"P.S. Harry," the parchment said. "I used Hermes to send you this. Get him back sharpish, eh? Perce hates it when we nick his stuff. Don't let the Muggles get you down, mate"

Harry looked over at the brown owl that was, by now, fast asleep next to Hedwig, and frowned slightly. Hermes must have been missing for two weeks now, and he was surprised to have heard nothing else from the Weasleys.

The last unopened envelope was addressed in an unfamiliar hand. So far, Harry had opened cards from Ron, Hagrid, Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, Neville Longbottom, and Colin Creevey. This last had included a picture of Colin and Harry, together with a group of other Gryffindors, and it sat proudly on the top of Harry's presents. He resolved to make sure Colin got something equally good back for his birthday.

The envelope slid open to reveal a thick sheaf of parchment, several sheets, all in different handwriting. Harry grinned as he realised that several members of the Weasley family had taken the trouble to each write to him individually.

The first was from Molly and Arthur Weasley, and was quite short. They wished him a happy birthday, and said that he should send Hermes back when he was able. Harry suspected that Ron and Hermione had sent the owls on to his friends. The Weasley parents also added their formal invitation to Harry to come and stay at the Burrow.

Bill and Charlie Weasley had each sent Harry upbeat letters full of funny stories and interesting tales about their respective jobs. One story in particular, involving a pyramid, a zombie, and three witches on broomsticks, made Harry laugh so much that tears streamed down his cheeks in the effort to remain quiet.

Percy Weasley wished Harry well, and added that he'd be supervising a Ministry of Magic open day at Hogwarts some time after Christmas. 

Fred and George Weasley also wished Harry well, and also had a few jokes for Harry. A p.s. asked him for feedback on his present, as it was something of a prototype, and they wanted to know how the test run went. Harry looked over the top of the letter at the parcel, which was by bumping against the headboard of his bed. Shaking his head in bemusement, he turned to the last piece of parchment, knowing it could only have come from one person.

Ginny Weasley had had a crush on Harry since she'd first met him. Harry was always worried about doing anything to encourage her, and had tried to avoid her somewhat, especially as over the previous school year he'd rather had his eye on Cho Chang. For that reason, he began to read Ginny's letter with a certain amount of trepidation.

As he made his way through the letter, he found himself smiling again. Ginny wasn't into jokes like her brothers, but her chatty way of writing brought him up to date on life at the Burrow. She said that Ron and Hermione were spending a lot of time together, and that this was often followed by them spending a lot of time apart. Hermione was talking to Victor Krum by the Floo network most nights once everyone had gone to bed, and more than once Ginny had gone downstairs in the early hours to find her staring intently at Krum's head in the middle of a roaring fire.

She went on to say that Ron was gradually getting better about Hermione and Victor, especially as she obviously didn't want to talk about it with him. Ron seemed to be getting back to his old self, she finished, and was really looking forward to seeing Harry again.

"So am I," Ginny added, a line that was written shakily and surrounded by green inkblots. Harry smiled, a little tightly. He resolved to bring Ginny out of her shell around him. If she couldn't even write a letter to him without getting all nervous, how would she cope with another two weeks living with him?

For that matter, couldn't he do something similar for the other students at Hogwarts? Could he help show them that it was possible to live their own lives, to be themselves regardless of Dark wizards or whatever other complications they might face.

Harry felt a though a light bulb had gone off in his head. Reaching under his bed, he eased out the album of wizard pictures given to him by Hagrid a few years before. Adding Colin's picture to his collection of those taken at Hogwarts, he flicked back toward the front of the album and smiled at the picture of his parent's wedding day. There was Remus Lupin, standing beside Peter Pettigrew, who looked more and more sinister every time Harry looked at the picture. Sirius stood on the other side of his parents, one hand coming up behind his father's head, two of his fingers then seemingly sticking out of the top of James Potter's mess of black hair.

Harry smiled happily at the picture, even Wormtail's presence not being able to spoil the warm glow he always received from looking at the moving image. Looking at his parents, he knew that it was what they would have done in a similar position, what they probably _had_ done before being forced into hiding. Harry had always thought of his fame and standing in the Wizarding world as something of a nuisance. What if he could use it to his advantage for once? Help strike a blow against Voldemort just by being alive?

Something to think about, to be sure.

He sighed contentedly as he set the album to one side. His presents sat at the foot of his bed, and his cards stood proudly on his mantelpiece. He lay back against the pillow, first shifting Fred and George's suspicious, fidgeting present into his Hogwarts trunk, and closing the lid firmly. Slowly, he felt himself drift off to sleep.

*

Harry sat eagerly in the chair nearest the fireplace of number four Privet Drive. There was less than a minute to go before the Weasleys were set to arrive, and he was being watched suspiciously by Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia.

"One drop of damage to our fireplace. . ." Uncle Vernon hissed, his mind obviously on the Weasley family's previous dramatic arrival in Privet Drive.

"Mr Weasley fixed it all, didn't he?" Harry asked.

"Oh, yes, he used his. . . abnormality. It doesn't change the fact that they were in our _house_."

Harry sighed, and looked at the fireplace, wondering how the Weasleys would manage to get past the solid -and now reinforced- gas fire that stood there.

The doorbell rang, and Aunt Petunia bustled out to answer it. Uncle Vernon stayed sitting bolt upright in his chair, his ferocious glare alternating between Harry and the fireplace.

"Er. . . This is Charles Weasley, Vernon," Aunt Petunia said, walking uncertainly into the living room.

"Mr Dursley," Charlie said, stepping into the living room. The second eldest of the seven Weasley children was dressed in casual Muggle clothing, and Aunt Petunia was clearly uncertain of what to make of him. Handsome and, comparatively, normal-looking, Charlie was no-one's idea of a wizard, and Harry could tell that Uncle Vernon wasn't prepared for the polite young man standing before him.

"Mr Dursley," Charlie said, offering his hand. Uncle Vernon shook it carefully, as though expecting Charlie to turn into a bunch of flowers on contact. "I've heard a great deal about you, of course. And your lady wife, I presume?" he added, turning and offering his hand to Aunt Petunia. She too shook hands carefully, clearly on edge at the charm offensive.

"And, er, what is it you do, Mr Weasley?" she managed.

"Oh, call me Charlie, please. I'm a veterinarian, Mrs. Dursley. I've always been an animal lover, and it just seemed to be the natural thing to do when I left school." He smiled easily, and turned to Harry.

"Good to see you again, Harry," he said. "Are you ready to go?"

Harry nodded, not quite sure what to make of Charlie in his new guise. Veterinarian? It was true that Charlie looked after dragons, but surely. . .

Then Harry realised. Charlie wasn't going to repeat the blatant displays of wizardry that others of his family had when they'd visited Privet Drive. A flying car, an exploding fireplace, and Dudley's gigantic tongue had all clearly left their mark on the Dursleys. As for the time Dudley had had a run in with Hagrid. . . Harry grinned at the memories.

"We'd best be off. I've got us a taxi, Harry. I'll give you a hand with your stuff."

Charlie shook hands with the Dursleys again, and hefted Harry's trunk easily into the air. Harry picked up Hedwig's cage, the owl soundly asleep at this time of day. He waved slightly at the Dursleys, who eyed him suspiciously, and then followed Charlie out the door.

*

"So, glad to be out of there, Harry?" Charlie asked, as they walked down the driveway. Harry paused, and turned to look back at the house. A curtain twitched, Aunt Petunia's innate nosiness apparently having gotten the better of her. He turned back, and nodded. 

"Very."

"Good. We'll meet up with the others soon enough. Dad wanted to have a look around a Muggle town. He doesn't get much of a chance these days, with work being so busy and all."

"Who else came along?" Harry asked, wondering how many Weasleys had descended on Little Whinging.

"Oh, Dad, Mum, Ron, Fred, George, Ginny and Hermione, I think. . . Some used the Floo network, me and Dad Apparated."

"Did anyone stay at the Burrow?" Harry asked, thinking of how much havoc the Weasleys could cause, especially Fred and George.

"Well, Percy stayed. He has work to do. I think Bill's coming to stay for a few days as well. It'll be great to have everyone under one roof again. 

Harry agreed, and the two walked to where a car sat idling at the end of Privet Drive. "It's not really a taxi," Charlie said, hefting Harry's trunk into the car boot. "Melissa is a friend of mine from work. She lives near here, and she wanted to hear all about your encounter with the Horntail last year, if that's okay with you, Harry."

Melissa turned out to be an extremely attractive woman in her early twenties, whose bright smile made Harry's heart jump into his throat. He'd been on the verge of saying no, that he didn't want to talk about the Triwizard Tournament at all, but suddenly he decided that he really, really wanted to tell Melissa all about the first task.

The trio traveled smoothly through Little Whinging, Harry directing the journey as Melissa drove. Harry's battle against the Horntail flowed easily, with little embellishment. Harry found that the truth was quite fantastic enough, and Melissa made for a good audience, gasping and wincing in all the right places, especially when Harry described how one of the Horntail's spikes had ripped across his shoulder.

Eventually, Melissa pulled up outside a small tearoom where Harry occasionally went to get away from the Dursleys. Harry and Charlie got out of the car, and thanked Melissa for the lift. Charlie hauled the trunk from the boot of the car, and, with Hedwig's cage resting on top, they each took a handle and waved as Melissa drove off.

"She's a good friend," Charlie said, as they walked toward the door of the teashop.

"Right," Harry said, not sure what to say.

"I wasn't sure if you'd want to talk about the task," Charlie added, stopping just outside the door. "Melissa has a knack of making it easy to talk."

Harry coloured slightly, and nodded.

"Listen, Harry, Mum wanted me to see that you were okay. Not just from the Tournament, and You-Know-Who, but spending the summer with your aunt and uncle. It can't have been easy, from what Ron's told us."

Harry paused, then looked up at Charlie's honest, open face. He knew Charlie the least out of all the Weasleys, having seen the least of him. Maybe they'd felt he'd be more comfortable discussing things with someone he wasn't so close to. Harry's mind churned as he thought about all that had happened to him since the previous summer. He was fifteen now, and slowly maturing. With the usual physical changes – Harry was a lot broader about the shoulders now, and nowhere near as short as he had been when he'd started at Hogwarts – he had felt a new maturity growing within him.

"I'm… okay," he said, surprised to hear the words even as he spoke them. "I'm going back to Hogwarts, with all my friends. It's the safest place around, so I'm not worried about anyone coming after me there. What happened last year, well, I can deal with it. It was terrible, but if I let Voldemort break me, then he's already beaten me.

"I suppose it's, I mean, I… I don't want to seem arrogant, but… Well, people look up to me, you know? It's like, so long as I'm not beaten, I can show people that we can win. Does that make sense?"

"It does, Harry," came a new voice from behind him. Harry turned, and smiled to see Arthur Weasley standing in the teashop doorway, a steaming mug of cocoa in one hand.

"And besides, if I ever need any help, I have a real family to turn to," Harry added, as Molly Weasley joined her husband in the doorway, her eyes twinkling as she hugged Harry.

"Too right you do, mate. Too right you do," Charlie said, as he and Arthur dragged Harry's trunk into the teashop, where Hermione and the rest of the Weasleys greeted Harry's arrival with a cheer.


	2. Chapter Two: The Burrow Again

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Chapter Two: The Burrow Again

Harry's first evening back at the Burrow passed in a blur. The dinner, as ever, was excellent, and Harry's arrival was celebrated by one of Fred and George's magnificent fireworks displays. Even Percy was coaxed out of his room long enough to join in the fun.

Eventually, it was time for bed. The Weasleys mounted the stairs together, slowly shedding family members until only Harry and Ron were left, climbing the last flight of stairs to Ron's room. As they passed through the door, Harry heard the family ghoul clattering in the attic, making Ron grimace. 

"He'll be up all night now," Ron said. "He's always like this after a party. Anyway, I didn't really get much chance to talk to you tonight. How are you, mate?"

Harry smiled. "I'm great, Ron. It's good to be here. Being back here is much better than being back with the Dursleys."

"Best not let mum here you say that," Ron grinned. "She'd probably explode with happiness."

They got ready for bed, and were about to put out the light, when Ron asked, "What about You-Know-Who?"

"I'm not worried about him," Harry said. "I know that sounds strange, but from here through until next summer I'm surrounded by powerful wizards and witches. I know I can't ignore him, but so long as I don't let him grind me down I feel like I'm halfway to beating him."

"That's just what Dad always says. Keep your spirits up, and you'll be fine. You must be growing up," Ron said, with a smirk.

"I hope not. I still don't know what I'll do when I leave school."

"You could always ask Professor Trelawney," Ron said, laughing. "Black-haired boys born in July will become binmen or bookkeepers," he added, in a misty voice reminiscent of their Divination teacher. "Or you could just do what everyone thinks you will, and play Quidditch. Wish I could."

"Well, why not?" Harry said. "We need a Keeper to replace Oliver this year. You could try out. Have three Weasleys on the team. We'd be unbeatable."

"Who's going to be captain this year?" Ron asked, ignoring Harry's suggestion.

"Don't know," Harry said. "George or Fred, maybe. The girls and them have got a lot coming up, though, with their N.E.W.Ts this year and all.

"Probably Fred or George, then," Ron said. "They never did pay much attention to school work. Drives mum potty."

*

Harry woke up later than usual the next day, and hurried through getting dressed in order to make it down to breakfast. His stomach grumbled as he headed downstairs, and he walked in just as a large brown owl glided through the kitchen window and dropped several large envelopes in the middle of the table.

"Oh, it's your Hogwarts letters," Mrs. Weasley said, handing them around. "That's funny. There's an extra one here…"

"Maybe Percy's being called back?" Fred said. "I mean, he only got 98 percent in that last exam."

"It's very heavy," Mrs Weasley continued. "It's addressed to Ron, Harry and Hermione." Then, she smiled. "Oh, I know what this is. It's been a while since we had one of these arrive," she added, with a pointed look at Fred and George.

She handed the envelope to Ron, who slit it open with his knife and tipped the contents onto the table. Three silver objects clattered onto the wooden surface, and Ron groaned. "There must be some mistake," he said.

"Ron, we're so disappointed in you," Fred said, with a laugh.

"We feel let down. We thought you were keeping up that fine Weasley tradition we started," George added, grinning.

"It's all on Ginny's shoulders now. Do you think she can cope with the pressure?" Fred said. "All that mischief is a lot to ask of one fourteen year old girl…"

"Oh, shut up," Ron said. "There must be some mistake. They've sent Hermione's badge along, and sent two for us by accident."

"Honestly, Ronald Weasley, the way you go on, you act as though it was something to be ashamed of," Mrs Weasley said, tutting. She took one of the badges, and pinned it to the front of Ron's jumper. "There. The silver goes well with your hair."

"Mum, I can't be a prefect! What'll people think?"

"Who's a prefect?" Hermione asked, as she and Ginny walked into the kitchen. Harry had noticed the night before that the two were virtually inseparable, and wondered if Ron knew what they were talking about.

"Well, you are," Harry said, handing Hermione her badge. She took it with a huge smile, and laughed at the sight of Ron slumped in his chair, staring incredulously at where his mother had pinned his badge.

"Poor Ron," Ginny managed, before breaking into a fit of giggles. Harry glanced at her, and bit his lip as he tried not to join her in laughing. He pocketed his own badge, and noticed that there was also a letter in the envelope. He pulled it out, and smiled as he read it.

"Apparently, Professor Dumbledore thinks that we'd make ideal Prefects, as we seem to know how to break all the rules that we have to enforce," he said, handing the letter to Ron. "There's a list of all the other Prefects this year, as well."

Ron scanned the list. Anything, Harry suspected, to take his mind off the horror of being made a Prefect. Harry suspected that he himself had been made a prefect for the reasons he'd outlined to Charlie; he was someone people looked up to, and would listen to. So long as they weren't in Slytherin. Speaking of which…

"Malfoy!" Ron spat. "Malfoy is a prefect? They must have been desperate."

"Crabbe and Goyle didn't make it, though," Hermione, who'd been reading the list over Ron's shoulder, commented. Ron, who hadn't realised Hermione's proximity, looked up and blushed furiously, before looking once more at the list. "Ernie and Hannah from Hufflepuff made it… I know a lot of these people," he said, still a little flustered.

"Well, they are in our year, Ron. We've been having classes with them for four years. What did you expect?" Hermione teased. Ron coloured again, muttering something under his breath. Charlie and the twins were in silent fits of laughter at their brother's all-too-evident discomfort.

"Oh, shut up," Ron snapped, jumping up from his chair and storming out into the garden.

Fred looked at Charlie, who groaned and stood up, taking one last mouthful of bacon before heading out the door after Ron.

"Ron's been being moody all summer," George whispered to Harry as he took a seat. "We've been taking turns trying to get him to calm down. Any idea what it's about?"

"Hermione," Harry replied, immediately. 

George grinned. "Yeah, that's what I said. Charlie reckoned it was school, with O.W.Ls and everything this year. Fred reckoned it was another girl at school, that Padmé or whatever her name was. Ten Sickles to me, I guess."

The group finished their meal in comparative quiet, broken only by Charlie and Ron's return, and the good natured banter that the twins kept up with their older brother in an attempt to lighten the mood. Mrs Weasley moved through the crowd deftly, adding more food to empty plates, scanning Hogwarts letters, settling a whispered quarrel between Fred and George about how much money had ridden on the bet.

"We'll go to Diagon Alley tomorrow, if that's okay with everyone," she said, looking at Harry's letter. The suggestion was met with a few nods of approval, and Hermione in particular looked eager to get back into the Wizarding world. She explained why as the younger Weasleys and their guests went to play Quidditch in the paddock.

"There's a book on international magical relations Viktor's been telling me about. I can see if Flourish & Blotts have it."

Ron muttered something under his breath, and increased the length of his stride to catch up with Charlie and Ginny. Hermione looked after him in bewilderment.

"What's up with Ron?" she asked. Harry looked at her incredulously.

"Hermione, you must have noticed the way he reacts when someone mentions Krum," he began.

"He's not still upset, is he? I thought he was past that." Harry stopped mid step in order to frame his reply properly.

"I think he's just concerned for you. He doesn't want you to be hurt. That's my guess."

"Hurt? By Viktor? Why would I be hurt?"

"Well, with the two of you having a long-distance relationship…" Harry stumbled over the words. This wasn't exactly familiar territory for him. Where was Ginny when he needed her?

And where had that thought come from?

"Is that what Ron thinks? I'm not going out with Viktor. We're just friends. Just because we went to the Yule Ball together, doesn't mean we're a couple. I don't see either of you with Parvati or Padma Patil."

"Have you told Ron that? That you and Krum aren't dating, I mean?"

"He hasn't asked," Hermione replied, grinning impishly as she walked off. Harry stayed where he was and, not for the first time, was left to wonder about the mind of the female sex.

*

A rousing game of Quidditch had the six players gasping for breath when they finally landed back in the paddock. Harry, George and Ginny had narrowly lost out to Fred, Hermione and Ron, mainly thanks to Ron's impressive display in goal. Harry and the twins were badgering him to try out for the vacant goalkeeper's position once Quidditch began again.

Harry in particular had enjoyed the match. With the exception of the first task, he hadn't had much time on his Firebolt since the previous summer, and it felt wonderful to be back on it again. It was almost like meeting up with an old friend, and he'd quickly returned to his form of old. The Firebolt felt as good under him as it ever had, and several of his interceptions had drawn cheers from both sides. He'd even had time to help Hermione with her broomstick issue; staying upright. Together with Ginny, who'd had the same problem when she'd learnt to fly, Harry had taught Hermione how to grip and sit so that turning wouldn't make her spin around the axis of her broom.

Once Ron had agreed to try for the house team, he and the twins began to gently tease Hermione about her initial problems. Harry grinned to himself, knowing that Hermione would find a way to get even soon enough. He also felt that not being the best at everything she did was good for Hermione to experience. 

Harry noticed that he was now walking alongside Ginny, and turned to her with a grin.

"I really needed you earlier, you know," he said. She looked at him with a curious look on her face, and waited for him to go on.

"I was talking to Hermione," he said, suddenly feeling that he was treading in deep water. "I could have done with a translator in girl logic."

Ginny suddenly grinned. "What makes you think we understand it any better than you do?" she asked. With that, she grabbed one of the footballs they'd been playing with and hurled it at Ron's head. It connected with a heavy thump, and Ron staggered forward, before turning and glaring at Harry.

"What did you do that for?" he asked, rubbing the back of his head.

Harry floundered for words, alternately looking between his best friend and his best friend's sister, who herself merely looked innocent, swinging her broom behind her as she looked anywhere but at Harry's face, biting her lip as she tried desperately not to laugh.


	3. Chapter Three: Diagon Alley And Beyond

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Chapter Three: Diagon Alley And Beyond

The next morning, Harry, Hermione and the Weasleys gathered around the fireplace. As it was a Saturday, Mr Weasley would be joining them on their trip to Diagon Alley, which would be followed by dinner at the Leaky Cauldron, where Bill and Percy would join them.

Ron stepped first into the fire. In a clear voice he shouted "Diagon Alley!" and threw his Floo Powder at his feet. With a flash of green flame, he was gone.

One by one, the rest of the group proceeded into the flames. When Ginny, with a small smile for Harry, disappeared, Mrs Weasley turned to Harry and held out the pot of powder.

"Here you go, dear," she said. "I know it's not your favourite way of travelling, but just remember, nice clear voice, and you'll be fine. Oh, and don't stop 'til you see the others."

Harry reached into the pot, and withdrew a pinch of powder. Stepping into the magical fire, he roared "Diagon Alley!" and threw the Floo Powder at his feet. There was a flash of green flame, and he found himself spinning, spinning, spinning as unfamiliar faces and fireplaces whirled around him.

Suddenly, he saw a cluster of redheads staring anxiously at him, and he threw his hands out, eager to catch something, anything that would break his fall. He felt strong hands grab him as he stumbled to a halt, and realised Fred and George had caught hold of him. Staggering out of the fireplace, he looked down in dismay at his soot-covered clothes. He straightened, and gave a smile of thanks to Hermione as she pulled a clothes-brush from her bag, and began to work on the worst of the dirt.

"I thought I might need this, after what you told me about Floo travel," she said, "but it's really easy to do, Harry…"

She trailed off as Harry looked at her. "I don't like it. I think after ending up in Knockturn Alley last time, I've just got a block about it."

"What's that, Potter? Another thing you're afraid of?"

Harry didn't need to turn to recognise that voice. Instead, he drew his wand as he span on his heel, finding himself face to face with Draco Malfoy, his least favourite person in the entire world.

"Hear this, everyone? Not only is Potter scared of the Dementors, not only does he get a headache whenever someone mentions Lord Voldemort, now it seems he's turning into such a little wimp that he's scared of using the Floo network."

Harry glowered at Malfoy, determined not to rise to the bait. His wand tingled in his hand as curses and jinxes rose unbidden to the tip of his tongue. Instead, he forced a grin onto his face.

"Last time I saw you, Malfoy," he said, "you were face down in the corridor of the Hogwarts Express. Did it cost your Dad a lot to have those tentacles cut off your face?"

Draco glowered. Harry, Hermione, Ron and the twins had cursed him and his friends Crabbe and Goyle on the way back from Hogwarts months before, and the incident was still fresh in everyone's minds.

"You want to watch it, Potter. Now the Dark Lord is risen once more, you needn't think you can hide behind a few stupid hexes. But I don't want to scare you too much," he went on. "I'll leave you to your pet Mudblood and that disgrace of a wizarding family you see fit to hang around with."

With that, Malfoy and a crowd of other Slytherin pupils swept out of the Leaky Cauldron, in the direction of Diagon Alley. Harry turned to face the others, and realised that Fred and George had hold of Ron's arms, the younger Weasley struggling to break free of their grip.

"Get off," he said, tearing one arm free. "One chance, that's all I want. Just one!"

"Ron, calm down," George said, catching his brother's arm again. "You know what Dad said. We can't risk…" He looked up at Harry and Hermione, and grinned weakly. Whatever he was going to say was driven out of everyone's minds by a final flash of green flame in the fireplace, and the arrival of Mrs Weasley in the Leaky Cauldron.

"Is everyone alright?" she asked. "Oh, never mind, Harry. That soot will brush off in no time. Oh, thank you, Hermione," she said, taking the clothes brush and sweeping at Harry's clothes efficiently. Ginny giggled as Harry was forced into stillness by Mrs Weasley's long practised sweeping. Even Ron seemed to calm down, grinning at the look on Harry's face. "There," she said after a few seconds. "All gone. Now, lists." She delved into her bag, and began pulling out the envelopes, handing them around once more. 

"Did you meet one of your friends?" she asked, absently as she dug deep in an effort to find Ginny's letter.

"Oh yeah," Fred said. "Someone we know and love."

"That's nice, dear," Mrs Weasley said, oblivious to the sarcasm in Fred's voice. "Always good to catch up with your friends."

"Looks like Malfoy's got a few more bodyguards this year," Ron muttered to Harry. "All those Slytherins… Just one good curse would have made this year so much happier…" he added wistfully.

Harry grinned, but Hermione looked scandalised.

"Ron!" she hissed, so that Mrs Weasley wouldn't hear. "You shouldn't even joke about that! People might think you're serious."

"You didn't seem to mind too much when we jinxed them a couple of months back," Ron pointed out.

"Yes, well, we shouldn't have done that," Hermione said. "What if they'd complained? We could have been in so much trouble!"

"Hermione, don't worry!" Ron said, as they walked into the alleyway behind the Leaky Cauldron. "It's not like anyone is going to think we've gone Dark just 'cause we put Malfoy in a Full Body Bind."

But Hermione didn't look convinced, and even when Mrs Weasley tapped the wall with her wand, opening the many wonders of Diagon Alley to them, she seemed far from happy.

*

Money pouches jingling as they left Gringotts, the group began to make plans for the day.

"Don't get into trouble, and be in the Cauldron by half five at the latest," Mrs Weasley said to each of them. "And stay away from Knockturn Alley," she added, to Fred and George.

"Yes, Mum," they chorused, looking unusually subdued. "We'll see you later," Fred added, as Lee Jordan hailed them from the other side of the street.

"What are you up to today?" Mrs Weasley asked, as she turned to face the others.

"Well, I need to get Colin Creevey something for his birthday," Harry said. "Could you help me, Ginny?" he added, determined to start fulfilling both resolutions at once.

Ginny looked startled, Ron shocked. "Me?" Ginny asked.

"Yeah," Harry said, smiling at the look of surprise on her face. "You're in his year and all. Is that okay?"

"Yes! I mean, yes, of course," Ginny said, blushing bright red. "I'll be… happy to help."

"Good," Harry said. "I'm rubbish at buying presents," he added, for the benefit of Ron, who was looking at him with glassy eyes.

"What about you two?" Mrs Weasley asked, looking at Ron and Hermione.

"Um…" Ron said, looking at Hermione as though suddenly realising they were the only two left. "I don't…"

"We're going to get our things, then get ourselves a sundae at Florean Fortescue's, if you two want to join us," she added to Ginny and Harry. Ginny nodded fervently, and Harry grinned.

"Sure. I can buy you an ice cream to say thanks," he said to Ginny. Her eyes went wide, and Harry coloured slightly as he imagined what Fred or George would say about the idea of Ginny having to be thanked for spending time with him. Another resolution, he thought with a grin: Get those two some new material.

*

Harry and Ginny walked quietly along Diagon Alley, weighed down by their purchases. Harry had had to once more buy new robes, in addition to his usual books and potion ingredients. He had agonised once more over the gorgeous working model of the solar system, until Ginny had dragged him away, laughing.

Now they just had Colin's present left to buy, and Harry huffed silently along beside Ginny, his face red with exertion and embarrassment.

"You really have no idea? He's been in your House for four years, and you don't know anything about him?"

"He's in the year below me. I don't know much about the people in the other years," Harry said, trying to justify his ignorance.

"I noticed," Ginny said, dryly. Harry coloured even deeper.

"I'm trying," he mumbled, looking down at the pavement as they stood in the middle of the street. "I've had a lot of time to think, this summer. About Voldemort-" Several adult wizards turned and stared at him at the sound of the Dark Lord's name "-and Cedric, and stuff."

"Yes?" Ginny said.

"Well… I said it to Charlie and your Dad, and it still sounds conceited now. It's, oh, it's so hard to say right. I have to live right, because people look at me. Does that make sense? If they see me trying to live my life, they might realise that Voldemort-" more stares "-being back doesn't necessarily mean we have to hide our heads under the covers. And part of living my life is, well, having a life. I want to get to know people like Colin, and his brother, and the other kids at our school."

He looked up at Ginny, amazed to have opened up so much to someone he didn't know very well. She was looking at him with a quizzical expression.

"You know, you never stop surprising me," she said, slowly.

"What do you mean?"

Ginny looked at him, blinking suddenly. _What did I say that for?_ she thought. _Now he's expecting some rational thought from me, when all I can think about is how green his eyes are, how handsome he is. Oh well, here goes nothing…_

"Well, anyone else in your position might agonise about their role in life. They might decide to run away, or just hold themselves in, so that no one much would get hurt if _they_ were hurt. But you decide that you can live a normal life, and make a difference at the same time, just by being you." She blushed, as though such a long speech embarrassed her.

"Does that make any sense at all?" Harry asked, suddenly eager to hear her reply.

"I think so," she replied. "It's like what Dad did at the Ministry all those years. He made a difference without making a big fuss about it. It's a little like what Percy tried to do as a prefect, too. . ." she added, with a mischievous glint in her eyes. Harry grinned.

"I think that was a compliment, so thank you."

"You're welcome. And I know what to get Colin for his present, but we might have to go out into the Muggle world to get it."

"Do you want me to hold your hand?" Harry said, laughing. He caught her eye, and finally saw what Ron had said to him years before. Ginny was the type of girl who had a simply irrepressible sense of humour.

"Have to catch me first, Harry," she said, dropping her parcels on the street and streaking off towards Florean Fortescue's ice cream parlour. Harry groaned, and tried to pick up her things while struggling with his own.

*

Ginny burst into the ice cream parlour, and collapsed into a chair, gasping for breath as she fought down the waves of laughter that threatened to crack her ribs in two. She looked around the parlour and saw Ron and Hermione sitting and staring at her.

__

From separate tables.

She got up, and walked over to them, bent almost double by the burgeoning stitch in her side.

"What's wrong?" she asked, looking from one to the other. Hermione tutted and looked away from Ron while he toyed listlessly with his half-eaten sundae. Ginny grimaced, realising that her brother and friend had had another fight, and a bad one from the looks of it.

"Isn't Harry still with you?" Ron asked, suddenly. Hermione looked around as she too realised that Ginny had come in alone.

"He's carrying the bags. He'll be here soon. Now, what-"

Ginny's question was interrupted by Harry, slamming through the door, heavily encumbered by two people's packages. What with Ginny's new school books as well as his own, He was panting, and looked on the verge of collapse, and Ginny grinned wickedly as Ron jumped up from his chair to help him.

"It's working then," Hermione said quietly. Ginny turned and nodded simply. She had had a long talk with Hermione before Harry's arrival at the Burrow, and they had reached the conclusion that Ginny was best off thinking about Harry as another Weasley as much as possible. It was working, in a way. Harry was as conscientious as her father, as lawless as Fred or George, as clever as Charlie, as earnest as Percy, as kind as Bill, and as fiercely protective as Ron. 

She sighed. All the best bits of her family, topped off with something unique to Harry himself. How could she help but feel crazy about him? She giggled as Harry tried to extract his head from the bundle of Arithmancy books he'd looped around his neck, but yearned to be the one helping him. The conversation she'd just had with him had truly surprised her. He'd grown so much in the time she'd known him, and every day she seemed to love him just a little bit more. She'd lied to Hermione. Looking at Harry as a brother didn't help much. It just made him a little easier to be around without embarrassing herself. And that just made her like him more, as well.

Shaking her head, she pushed forward to help Ron extricate Harry from his burden, joining in with her brother's laughter as she did so.

*

Dinner that evening was a raucous affair. Nine Weasleys in any space would create a lot of noise. With their guests as well, and the multitude of friends that kept coming up to them, it was well after dark before they finished up. As Mr Weasley went off to settle the bill, Mrs Weasley turned to her children and grinned.

"Arthur and I have been talking," she announced. "Those of you going to Hogwarts this year will be back here in a couple of weeks. You'll spend the last night of your holidays here in the Leaky Cauldron, before going on to Hogwarts the next day. I suppose that that's okay with everyone?"

A great cheer from Fred, George and Ron greeted the news. "I knew you were up to something," Fred said, grinning at his mother. "All those late night chats with Dad. Was this what you were setting up?"

"It was," Mr Weasley said, as he returned to the table. "Now, listen you six. I've booked in three rooms, so you girls can share, and you boys can sort it out amongst yourselves, I'm sure."

Harry was delighted by the news that the six of them would be returning to Diagon Alley before they went back to school. He and Ron began making plans for their day there, and Harry knew that he'd once more find himself in front of the model solar system, dreaming of an uninterrupted night's sleep each Wednesday. He was dimly aware of Fred and George discussing how Lee would be staying in the Leaky Cauldron as well, and Hermione mentioned that Padma and Parvati Patil would be staying at one of the other hotels. Ginny suddenly looked at her parents.

"Mum, is there something we should know?" she asked.

"Whatever do you mean, dear?" Mrs Weasley replied.

"Well, everyone we know from school seems to be staying here on August 31st," Ginny replied, her eyes narrowing.

"Hey, she's right," Fred said. "What's going on, Dad?"

"It's…" Mr Weasley began, looking helplessly at Mrs Weasley. "Oh, it's no good, Molly. We have to tell them."

Mrs Weasley nodded, biting her lip. Mr Weasley turned back to face the rest of the group.

"You will be taken from Diagon Alley to Platform 9 and ¾ by Portkey this year," he said, his expression sober and serious. "Professor Dumbledore considers the risk of attack by You Know Who or his forces too great to risk your being exposed in such a public place as Kings Cross station. Plus, it would put so many Muggles at risk that it would be impossible to cope with."

Ron looked unusually serious as he raised his hand.

"What happens once we're on the train, Dad? Me and Harry followed it a few years back, so what if You Know Who does that this year?"

"You'll have teachers with you on the train," Mrs Weasley said, her face pale. "Dumbledore sent all the parents letters assuring us that you'd be safe on the journey. He may even be on the train himself."

"I'm not worried then," Harry said, his voice ringing clear amid the hubbub of the Cauldron. "No-one is in danger if Professor Dumbledore is around."

"That's the spirit, Harry," Mr Weasley said, relieved not to have been met by a storm of objections. "Dumbledore would no more let anything happen to his students then your mother or I would our own children, or you two either," he added to Harry and Hermione.

"We should be going anyway," Mrs Weasley said. "It's been a long day for all of us."

The group gathered slowly around the fireplace, the huge piles of purchases making it difficult to keep track of who was where. Slowly, Mrs Weasley counted them off, watching her offspring and their friends vanish into the green flames. Once Charlie had gone through, she turned to Mr Weasley and pulled him into an embrace.

"Oh, Arthur," she murmured into his chest. "Tell me we're doing the right thing, sending them back to school this year."

"Of course we are, Molly," he replied, holding her tight against him. "We've been over this. There's nowhere safer than Hogwarts. Even if I thought they'd be safer staying with us, it's still important for them to live their own lives. They'll be under Dumbledore's guard, and there's no place safer in this world."

Mrs Weasley relaxed slightly, and they took the last pinches of Floo powder from the pot. Together, they stepped into the flames and vanished.


	4. Chapter Four: And So It Continues

Chapter Four: And So It Continues  
  
Author's note: This chapter contains sock stealing, an idea that has grown outward from Imogen's Carpe Diem. It's not exactly a key point in the plot or anything, just a tribute to the story that got me thinking about writing  
HP fic.  
  
One morning late in the holidays, Hermione and Ginny rose early, after the house ghoul decided to use the pipe above their room as a drum. They sat in the field beyond the Weasley garden hedge, and chatted idly about school and anything else that came to mind.  
  
As the smell of cooking began to reach out from the kitchen, the two girls got up to go back into the house. Suddenly, the kitchen door banged open, and Harry stormed out into the garden.  
  
"Weasley!" he bellowed, and began running towards the hedge. Hermione and Ginny clambered to their feet to watch the bizarre sight of their friend charging barefooted towards them, dodging stones and gnomes in equal measure, his glare fixed on Ginny.  
  
"Err." Ginny said, before turning and running. Hermione realised quickly that her friend was in trouble. Harry was extremely fast, and Ginny was too short to outdistance him. Harry cleared the hedge like an Olympic hurdler, his face set in a frown of concentration as his long legs easily ate up the distance between himself and Ginny.  
  
"Mi. Hermione." The voice made her jump, and she turned to find Ron behind her, a contemplative look on his face. He held out a mug of hot tea, brewed, she could tell, exactly as she liked it. She took it carefully.  
  
"Hello, Ron," she said. It was the first civil words they'd shared since the trip to Diagon Alley.  
  
"I just wanted to say that I'm sorry," Ron said. "I can't tell you who to be friends with, it's not fair of me. Peace?"  
  
"Peace," she said, gratefully. She raised the mug to her lips, and hid a small smile behind the lip. "What's Harry so upset about?"  
  
"Ginny's been nicking his socks. All he's got left is a pair his uncle gave him." A shrug. "Um."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Do you think Harry likes Ginny? They've been spending a lot of time together."  
  
"Of course he likes her."  
  
"As more than a friend," Ron said. "Like he liked Cho Chang."  
  
Hermione paused, unsure of how to reply. She knew that Ginny liked Harry well enough, it had become almost a standard in their lives. Harry liking Ginny? That was new.  
  
"What makes you think that?" she asked. Ron looked out over the field, watching Ginny curl herself deeper and deeper into the branches of an oak tree as Harry jumped and flailed at her dangling feet.  
  
"He's paying her a lot more attention this summer. And she's being a lot less, well, Ginny, around him."  
  
"She's growing up, Ron," Hermione said, gently. "It happened to us too, remember?"  
  
"She's my little sister, 'Mione," he said, and for once she didn't object to the shortening of her name. "I just don't want to see her getting hurt."  
  
"You think Harry would hurt Ginny?" Hermione said, surprised.  
  
"Not deliberately," Ron said, hurriedly. "But he's. he's Harry. Things happen to him. He can't help it, and if something really bad happens."  
  
Hermione reached over and squeezed Ron's hand. "I'm scared of losing him too, Ron."  
  
"That's what I mean," Ron said, squeezing her hand back. He looked her in the face, and Hermione felt a tingle run down her spine as she suddenly realised how grown up Ron could look. "You hate the idea, I hate the idea. If something were to happen to Harry, I don't know how Ginny would cope. And if they were to get together." He trailed off.  
  
"I still think you're imagining things," Hermione said briskly. "They're more like brother and sister then anything else. Ginny was saying before Harry arrived that she feels like he's as much a brother to her as you or Fred or Charlie." Ron looked up, a grin on his face.  
  
"That would explain the socks," he said. "She only steals them from people she feels really close to. Seamus reckons his little sister does it, too."  
  
"Feeling better?" Hermione asked, still holding Ron's hand, and suddenly very aware of it.  
  
"Yeah. Just. stuff. Venting, y'know?" Ron said. His eyes dropped to where his hand and Hermione's were clasped together.  
  
"Well, if you ever need to talk, I'm always here to listen. I know you think I spend all my time in the library-"  
  
"You do!" Ron cut in.  
  
"Well then," Hermione said, smiling. "You'll always know where I am in the case. If you can find me among the books, I'm always happy to listen."  
  
"Thanks, Hermione," Ron said. "I'm glad we made up. Again."  
  
"Again," Hermione replied, giggling. "Now, shall we save Ginny?"  
  
"What. OI! POTTER! Get your hands off my sister!" Ron bellowed, as he jumped to his feet and ran laughing to where Harry had tackled Ginny, and was trying to pull his socks off her feet while they laughed hysterically. Hermione joined her three friends, and soon all four were rolling in the grass, helpless with laughter.  
  
In the kitchen, Mrs Weasley paused from her serving up of breakfast to the hungry Weasley males, and looked out of the window. Even as Fred gestured hungrily for more bacon, she smiled to herself at the sight of the four teenagers enjoying themselves amidst the chaos that threatened their world.  
  
*  
  
That night, Mr Weasley returned home from work looking pale and drawn. He gathered everyone around the kitchen table, and quietly said, "The Dementors have left Azkaban. We can only assume that they have gone to join up with You-Know-Who."  
  
Mrs Weasley gasped, and Harry paled at the thought of his most hated enemy in charge of the Dementors. Although he had long since mastered the Patronus conjuring spell, he felt a lot happier knowing that they were far away from him.  
  
"Mr Weasley," he said, trying to project calmness into his voice. "Will the Ministry be hunting the Dementors."  
  
"No," Mr Weasley said, bitterly. "We've been ordered to act as though everything was completely normal. There's to be no hunting, no word of this to anyone. I don't know what Cornelius Fudge is up to."  
  
"The Minister is simply trying to prevent a panic, Father," Percy said, every bit as pale as Mr Weasley was.  
  
"That may very well be true, Percy, but I would think that the right information would prepare people not to panic," Mr Weasley replied, rubbing his eyes and yawning. "I'll order everyone in my department to practise the Patronus spell. Just in case," he added, off of the look on Mrs Weasley's face. "In the meantime, I don't think they'll dare attack anyone just yet."  
  
Despite Mr Weasley's comforting words, Harry felt a great coldness settling in his stomach. He resolved that he, too, would practise the Patronus spell, in case he once again came face to face with a Dementor.  
  
*  
  
That night was a restless one. Harry tumbled and tossed in his bed until he gave up trying to sleep. He made his way downstairs to get a glass of water, trying in vain to avoid the many creaky floorboards in the Weasleys' home. Walking into the kitchen, he was surprised to find himself with company.  
  
"Hi, Ginny," he said softly. Ginny jumped in her seat, having been lost in thought as she stared at the last dying embers of the fire.  
  
"H. . . hey Harry," she said, flushing bright red. At least he can't see this time. It's too dark in here. Oh, if only I could just go a day without turning red.  
  
"Couldn't sleep?" he asked, sitting in the chair next to her.  
  
She shook her head. "I had a nightmare," she whispered.  
  
He looked at her in concern. "What was it about? If you don't mind me asking," he asked.  
  
"No, it's." her head dipped, so that she was talking to her lap. "I was in the Chamber of Secrets again," she said. Harry frowned. He'd always thought that Ginny had recovered from the events of her first year at Hogwarts surprisingly well.  
  
"I didn't know you still thought about it," he said, kicking himself for never wondering how Ginny was affected by the events of her first year. She looked up, for a second her face was contorted into a scowl, then she saw the concern on his face, and she let the expression drop.  
  
"I do," she said. "Sometimes. I know people think I just got over it, but it does still affect me. When I feel bad, when I'm scared. . . It's like I'm being pulled back, to when I felt at my worst. And now the Dementors are loose. . . Harry, do you know what I see when the Dementors are nearby?" Harry shook his head, although he thought he had a good idea.  
  
"I'm back in the Chamber," she said, her voice hollow. "Tom's there. I can feel myself dying, slipping away, I can see the basilisk, and you fighting it. . . And there's nothing I can do! The worst feeling was how helpless I was. I felt so bad about it, so scared, so weak. . ."  
  
"Ginny, it wasn't your fault," Harry said, more forcefully than he had intended. "You were being controlled. Riddle was a powerful wizard, older and stronger than you. You know who he grew up to be. I don't think I could have done anything against him if he'd been in my mind all year. You did well to hold on as long as you did. I mean, you fought against him for so long that year. He must have tried putting you under the Imperius spell, but you kept fighting him, kept breaking free. How many people could have done that?"  
  
Harry slipped out of his chair, and knelt in front of Ginny, taking her hands in his. He thought of the resolution he'd made days before, and his resolve strengthened still further as he contemplated one of Voldemort's many innocent victims.  
  
You don't get this one. You're not going to get any more. Not if I can do anything about it.  
  
"I was scared too, that day. I was scared that you were dead. That someone I wanted to get to know a lot better had been taken away, from me, from her family. I just wanted to beat Tom Riddle so badly when I knew what he'd done to your family, what he'd done to you. I'm sorry I never talked to you about this before now. I should have done."  
  
Ginny looked up, her eyes blurred by tears welling up. She choked down a sob, and squeezed his hands tightly. "Harry," she said, her voice cracking. "Did I ever thank you for saving me? Without you. . ." her voice dissolved as the tears streamed freely down her face.  
  
Harry pulled her into a hug, holding her closely against him. "You're welcome," he whispered.  
  
They stayed holding one another for a long time. When the Weasleys began to descend for breakfast the following morning, they found Harry and Ginny asleep on the couch together. The two had to put up with some merciless teasing for the rest of the day, though both took it in good heart. Occasionally, they would catch each other's eye, and share a smile, content with knowing the truth. 


	5. Chapter Five: August The Last

Chapter Five: August the Last  
  
August the thirty-first came all too quickly, but the Weasleys at least had the luxury of setting off in the early afternoon for Diagon Alley. Just for a change, no-one lost their temper with anyone else as they packed their things, and apart from one minor incident when Fred tipped a whole box of Dr. Filibuster's fireworks onto George's head, everyone was ready on time.  
  
"Now," Mrs Weasley said, having finished re-growing George's hair. "Same as before. One at a time, and don't get out until you see the others. George, you first."  
  
"The girls are meeting us there," Fred whispered to Ron and Harry. "Can't wait to see what they think of George's new hairdo."  
  
The boys grinned at the thought of George appearing in front of Katie and Alicia with his somewhat misshapen hair. Harry had a suspicion it would only make him that much more attractive, and gave out a half-exasperated sigh as he ran his fingers through his own unruly hair. He noticed Ginny looking at him with an impish grin on her face, and couldn't help but smile again. Ginny had amazing hair, he suddenly noticed. It was sleek, and smooth, and he could see that it was shifting colour in the glare from the fire. Did the other Weasleys have hair like that, he wondered? How come he'd never noticed Ron's hair do that?  
  
He shook his head. He sounded like some silly romance novel, the sort of thing his Aunt Petunia sometimes read. He was glad Ron had already gone through to the Leaky Cauldron. He'd always been very protective of Ginny, as long as Harry had known him. If Ron thought for a second that Harry liked Ginny as anything more than a friend. . . It didn't bear thinking about.  
  
As Harry stepped into the fire and threw his handful of Floo Powder -he was really getting quite good at it by now- he completely failed to notice Hermione looking at him very shrewdly.  
  
*  
  
A wonderful surprise awaited the Hogwarts students as they arrived at the Leaky Cauldron. The teacher assigned to watch over this section of Diagon Alley, and ensure the students safe journey to Kings Cross the following day, was none other than Hagrid. Harry could barely conceal his joy at seeing Hagrid, who waved heartily at the group as he tried to retrieve Trevor the toad from the top of the teetering tower of trunks.  
  
"Flaming toad," he greeted them, without a hint of rancour. "Found it in my teapot las' year. Least this time I won't be drinking frog flavoured tea for the nex' month."  
  
With that, he swiped his hand across the top of the trunks, and snatched Trevor in mid spring. He reached across the crowded room - which seemed like nothing more than a cramped version of the Gryffindor common room - and deposited Trevor in the lap of his owner, Neville Longbottom. Neville looked up, having been lost in conversation with a pretty Gryffindor fourth year Harry and Ron recognised, but couldn't name.  
  
"Daniella Spinnet," Ginny said from behind them. "She sits next to me in Transfiguration. She's a much better dancer than I am. I got them dancing at the Yule Ball, and it looks like Neville finally asked her out."  
  
She pushed between Harry and Ron, and went over to talk to her friend. A few words passed between the two, and soon the two girls were hugging and laughing, while Neville looked on, half ecstatic, half embarrassed.  
  
"Weird!" said Ron, as he and Harry dragged their trunks up to the pile. "Neville's got a girlfriend. Seamus too. Him and Lavender Brown have been together since Christmas."  
  
Harry nodded absentmindedly as he looked around the crowded room. Neville and Daniella were together, Seamus Finnigan was sitting by a window with Lavender, and Fred was struggling to hold Angelina Johnson's attention while she, Katie Bell and Alicia fussed over George and his new hairstyle. As he continued looking, he realised that there were quite a few couples in the room, not to mention all the ones that would have formed in the other school houses, and between Gryffindors and members of the other houses.  
  
"Y'know," Ron said slyly, perching himself on the edge of a table. "I would have put money on you being the first to get a girlfriend in our year."  
  
"Me? Why me?" said Harry, suddenly jerked back to the conversation he was having with Ron.  
  
"Well, you know, famous Harry Potter and all that stuff. You had all the girls falling over themselves to go with you to the Ball last year," Ron laughed.  
  
"Yeah, well, we know how well that turned out," Harry replied, grinning ruefully. "The wrong girl, the wrong time. . . Hope there isn't a ball this year."  
  
"You wouldn't want to ask anyone, then?" Ron asked, his eyes narrowed and his tone suddenly serious.  
  
"Hadn't even thought about it," Harry said, wondering where Ron was going. "Besides, who would I ask? Listen, if you think that you have to set me up with someone just because Ginny got Neville a girlfriend-"  
  
"Oh, no, it's not that," Ron said hurriedly.  
  
"What then?" Harry asked. Just then, Hermione arrived with three Butterbeers, and the conversation was quickly forgotten, though Harry did notice, as he took his first sip, just how red Ron's ears had gone.  
  
*  
  
Dinner at the Leaky Cauldron was an even noisier event then Harry's meal with the Weasleys had been. Fred and Lee Jordan had a great time letting off a display of Filibuster's fireworks, while George moved around the room springing Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes on unsuspecting victims, many of whom became clients, much to George's delight.  
  
"Ah, Harry," he said, pouncing as Harry stood to refill his plate. "I forgot to ask before. Tell me, did you like your birthday present?"  
  
Fred paused in setting off a Catherine Wheel on the back of Angelina's chair, and turned to face his twin.  
  
"Yeah, tell us, Harry," he said eagerly.  
  
"Well, I didn't want to open it. . ." Harry began. "Without you here to watch!" he added hurriedly as he saw the identically hurt expressions on the twins' faces. He dived for his trunk, which still held the brightly wrapped present, and in doing so missed the high-five that the twins exchanged.  
  
Ron and Ginny, however, missed nothing, and waved Angelina, Katie and Alicia over to join them. Harry returned to find Fred and George pinned to chairs either side of his. Ron and Angelina held Fred down, while George was the prisoner of Katie and Alicia. Both twins looked a little apprehensively at the sparkly present in Harry's hands. As it lurched almost out of his grip, Ron nodded firmly.  
  
"Mum told them not to send you that," he said to Harry. "She reckoned it would get you in trouble with those Muggles you live with. Sit down and open it," he added, nodding at Harry's chair. "It'll be okay."  
  
Harry set the present on the table and looked around nervously. Taking his seat between the subdued Fred and George, Harry slowly peeled off the wrapping paper, uncomfortably aware that most of the room was now watching him. Then he remembered his decision to show what a true Gryffindor was made of, swallowed, and ripped off the rest of the paper in one sweep.  
  
"Accio chair!" Harry felt the chair pull back from under him as the parcel exploded, and saw the air fill with sparks and streamers as he toppled back onto the ground with a hard thump. Everyone except Fred and George, who were still held in place by their captors, had ducked as the last of the paper came off, and the twins now faced each other with identical soot covered expressions of shock, which quickly turned to glee.  
  
"Birthday Bombs!" Fred shouted, wrenching free of Ron and Alicia's grip. "Fourteen Sickles! Go off when they sense direct light. Perfect for surprise par- What is it, George?" he finished, turning on his brother who was tugging on his sleeve. Fred grinned even wider as he saw where George was pointing.  
  
"Well, well!" he said, a perfect white smile smeared across the sooty blackness of his face. "Harry Potter's finally fallen at our little sister's feet. Better get up, Harry, or next thing you know, Mum'll be planning the wedding."  
  
Harry looked up from where he was lying, prone on the floor. Sure enough, Ginny was standing above him, his chair in one hand, her wand in the other. She was blushing furiously as she looked from Fred, to George, to Harry, and back again. Harry found himself staring helplessly at her, as though the blow of hitting the ground had shaken something loose inside him.  
  
Then, she turned and ran from the room, the chair clattering to the ground as she went. This triggered a chain of events, which included Angelina slapping Fred as hard as she could, and Hermione, Angelina, Katie and Alicia sweeping out of the room in Ginny's wake. Ron buried his fist deep in Fred's stomach and was advancing menacingly on George. Only Hagrid's intervention saved the twins from ending up much worse off.  
  
"Ron! Calm down," he ordered, shoving him roughly off into one corner as he swept the twins up with his other hand, and deposited them none too gently on the table. "As for you two." he began.  
  
Harry and Ron seethed in the corner as Hagrid spoke quietly to the twins. At the end of his lecture, Fred and George wandered aimlessly over to where Harry and Ron were sitting, and stood before them nervously.  
  
"Seems as though we may have got a bit carried away," Fred said.  
  
"We just wanted to apologise to you, Harry, before we go and let Ginny kill us," George added.  
  
Harry glared at his two friends, but it was Ron who spoke.  
  
"You know that that wasn't funny, Fred," he said. "You're such a git sometimes."  
  
"Yeah, I think that's been made pretty clear," Fred replied. No one smiled.  
  
"We'd better go and apologise," George said. For once, Harry was sure that the twins were being deadly serious.  
  
As the twins trooped out of the room, Ron turned around, his face still bright red, and looked at Harry.  
  
"I'm sorry about that," he said, his voice under what Harry could tell was tight control. "It was a family thing."  
  
"How many times have you said I'm like family?" Harry asked. "Besides, it involved me, Ron. I like Ginny, Ron. I don't like her getting hurt or embarrassed like that."  
  
"Yeah, well. . . And you're right, you are a part of the family."  
  
Harry smiled. "You think we should take some food up to the girls? They didn't finish dinner, after all. . ."  
  
Ron grinned as Tom the landlord started wheeling out the first of a series of dessert trolleys. "Pudding," he said, making his way over to the sudden scrum of rejuvenated students.  
  
"I heard Lavender Brown mention it once," he added, as he began piling a selection of desserts onto a tray. Harry got the idea, and began choosing from a second trolley.  
  
A few minutes later, the two of them mounted the staircase Ginny had taken. Halfway up, they passed a very subdued Fred and George, who were sitting staring miserably at each other.  
  
"They've not calmed down," George said.  
  
"They're not mad at us," Ron replied, nudging his brother none too gently with his foot.  
  
"Where'd you learn about the dessert thing?" Fred asked, as though from a great distance.  
  
"Around," Ron replied, as he trod heavily on Fred's foot. Fred managed a watery smile.  
  
"Our little Ronniekin's growing up," he said, but it was clear his heart wasn't in it.  
  
Harry and Ron turned left at the top of the stairs, and approached the room shared by Hermione and Ginny. The door had an ominously closed look about it, and Ron and Harry could hear several female voices talking quietly beyond it. Harry knocked softly, and instantly heard Alicia shout "If that's you again, George Weasley, I'll make you wish you were never born!"  
  
"It's, er, it's us," Harry said, exchanging worried glances with Ron.  
  
"Oh." A chair scraped, and they heard someone walking toward the door. Hermione's voice came next. "Finite Incantatem," She said, and the door creaked open just wide enough to let them see her peering out at them.  
  
"We, er, we thought you might be hungry," Ron said. "Er, is Ginny okay?"  
  
Hermione looked quickly over her shoulder and turned back. "Thank you," she said. "She'll be okay, just a little bit tired with all the fuss today."  
  
Harry and Ron decided to ignore the obvious lie, even when it was coming from Hermione. Ron set his tray down on a table next to the door, and nodded. "Right, well, I think we'll be off to bed now, eh, Harry?"  
  
"What? Oh, yeah," Harry said. He'd been trying to look over Hermione's head and into the room, but reluctantly set his tray down next to Ron's. "Listen, tell Ginny that, well, I'm sure Fred and George didn't mean anything really. Well, probably not. Um. Tell her we'll see her in the morning," he added, as Ron began to pull him away.  
  
"I will," Hermione said. "Thanks again for the desserts."  
  
*  
  
"He'll hate me," Ginny scowled, picking uninterestedly at the chocolate cake Hermione had set in front of her.  
  
"Of course he won't," Katie Bell said. "Harry's not that kind of person."  
  
"Yeah, there's only two people he hates," Angelina said. "Draco Malfoy and Snape."  
  
"I don't think he's too fond of Fred and George right now," Alicia added, a malicious glint in her eye. Even Ginny managed a weak smile at that.  
  
"Don't forget, there's one other person Harry really hates," Hermione added, absent-mindedly. The other girls shivered, and Ginny seemed to go even paler than she already was.  
  
"Yeah, okay, point taken," Alicia said. "Well, Gin, there you go. Harry hates a few people, but you're not any of them."  
  
Ginny smiled again. "You all know Harry so much better than I do," she said. "Why am I the one who feels like this? I tried so hard to get over him last year and it didn't work. Nothing works." She sighed in a way that spoke of years of frustration.  
  
"Maybe because you're the only one who could, Ginny," Alicia said, sitting on Ginny's bed and laying a hand on her knee. "Us girls have been hanging around with Lee and the twins so long, it's hard to remember what normal boys are like."  
  
"And he's been one of my best friends for four years," Hermione said. "I know him much too well to think of him like that." Katie and Angelina looked at one another over the top of Hermione's head and grinned on hearing that.  
  
"Most of the other girls like him because he's famous," Angelina said.  
  
"Or because he plays Quidditch," Katie added.  
  
"But you know more about Harry than that," Hermione said. "He's saved your life, Ginny. That always creates a bond between two people. I remember Professor Flitwick saying once that it always affects those two people very strongly, like a special spell only they feel."  
  
"Hey, if Hermione remembers it from a lesson, it must be true," Angelina said with a smile.  
  
"So what does it mean?" Ginny said, suddenly looking up. "Because Harry saved my life, am I going to follow him around like this forever? I thought I had it all worked out. I actually got to know him a little this summer. It's just made things worse, and now you tell me I'm bound to him forever?"  
  
The Gryffindor girls all looked at one another, squirming as they tried to think what to say.  
  
"I don't know, Ginny," Hermione said at last. "I do think you were on the right track, getting to know Harry. You just have to give it time."  
  
"It's been four years, Hermione," Ginny said, quietly. "I don't know how much more I can take."  
  
Katie, Alicia and Angelina got up to leave. As they were walking out of the door, Katie turned around, her expression one of curiosity.  
  
"Ginny, did you notice the way Harry was looking at you when he was on the ground?" she asked.  
  
"That's true," Angelina said, turning in the doorway. "He couldn't take his eyes off you."  
  
"Really?" Ginny asked, her head raising slightly off her arms.  
  
"Truly," Angelina said. "I mean, okay, you'd just pulled his chair away from under him, so maybe he was concussed or something-"  
  
"-but now you mention it. . ." Alicia went on. "He did look kind of. . . into you, Gin."  
  
"Bet it was using that Summoning Charm," Katie said excitedly. "Just like he did against that dragon last year. That probably caught his attention."  
  
"I made Fred teach me it after I saw him use it," Ginny confessed. Her expression had changed, a little. Not cheerful, nor hopeful, but it did admit the possibility that these possibilities existed.  
  
"Of course, it might have been the way you looked, as well," Alicia opined. "Outlined against the fire, looking really powerful. . . A real attention grabber."  
  
"Maybe he was just seeing you for the first time," Angelina said. "You know how it is, look at someone from a new angle, or after a surprise. . . Well, I think both of those apply here," she added with a grin.  
  
After the older girls left, Ginny looked over at Hermione. "Do you think they're right? Or were they just being nice."  
  
Hermione opened her mouth as if to reply immediately, then shut it again as she remembered what she'd seen in the Burrow, just before the Floo trip to the Cauldron. She turned the thought over in her mind, and then slowly shrugged.  
  
"I think he has noticed you," she said, choosing every word carefully. "I'm not sure what he's thinking, though. I'm not even sure Harry thinks about anyone that way." She sighed. "He tends to talk to Ron about that that sort of thing, I think. If he talks about it at all," she added, shrewdly.  
  
"And Ron will never tell me anything. He thinks I'm too young to be going out with anyone." She smiled slightly, and then shook her head. "Sometimes I hate having so many older brothers. Mum's always telling them to take care of me. I just wish I could enjoy being fourteen. I turn fifteen in a few months, even. Ron's not that much older than me."  
  
"If you like, I can have a word with Ron. He might tell me something," Hermione offered.  
  
Ginny managed something close to a real smile. "Ron'd probably tell you anything you wanted."  
  
"Well, he does tell me things. . ." Hermione began, not sure of what Ginny meant.  
  
Ginny laughed, banishing, at least temporarily, her woes. "You're as bad as one another," she said enigmatically as she went to the bathroom to wash before she went to bed.  
  
*  
  
In Harry and Ron's room, the two friends were talking over the events of the day. They had covered most of the gossip - boys, after all, taking as great an interest in such things as girls do - when the conversation turned suddenly to the end of the evening.  
  
"Reckon it'll take Fred and George 'til Valentines Day to get back in the girls' good books," Ron said, sleepily. "At least. Probably have to dress up as Cupid and sing a love song in front of the whole school. Maybe I'll say something about it to the girls. . ." he added, drowsily. He reached out to turn down the lamp on his bed stand.  
  
"Ron," Harry said, suddenly. "What would you say if someone wanted to go out with Ginny?"  
  
"Mmm?" Ron said, sleepily. "Did you hear Dean, then?"  
  
"Dean! What- I mean, what did Dean say?"  
  
"Oh, he was asking if she had a boyfriend and stuff. I set him straight. Told him Ginny was too young to start da-a-ating," Ron yawned. "That, and me, Fred and George would be watching any guy she started dating like a hawk. I think he lost interest after tha'," he finished, as he began to doze.  
  
Harry lay awake, pondering what it was exactly that had made him ask.  
  
*  
  
The next morning, Harry and Ron were dressing for breakfast when Ron paused.  
  
"Harry," he said, quietly. "Do you think Hermione is going out with Krum?"  
  
"Haven't you asked her?" Harry said in surprise.  
  
"Can't," Ron said shortly. "We keep on ending up arguing whenever I mentioned him. I hate it when we argue," he added, wholly unnecessarily.  
  
Harry looked at his best friend, realizing that his long held suspicion had been correct.  
  
"You fancy Hermione."  
  
"Shhhh!" Ron hissed. "Keep your voice down, will you?"  
  
"It's not like anyone can hear me say it," Harry replied.  
  
"Yeah, well, I just. . . You know what that lot are like," Ron said, gesturing vaguely at the door, and the rest of the Gryffindors on the other side.  
  
"Yeah, well, There's only one way to find out if she feels the same way," Harry said. Ron looked appalled.  
  
"You can't mean ask her out," he said, his eyes widening in horror. "Suppose she says no? Or laughs at me? It'd be like last Christmas all over again. You said it yourself: That went well wrong!"  
  
Harry laughed. "Well, I can't tell you if she likes you. Ask Ginny. In fact, just talk to Ginny, seeing as you're the only boy she's allowed to talk to."  
  
"What do you mean? I don't mind Ginny talking to other boys."  
  
"But no one can go out with her, right?" Harry replied, a little hotly.  
  
"So? She's my sister. I'm supposed to protect her. Last thing mum says, every year; 'Look after your sister'. Why do you care, anyway?" he asked, looking at Harry suspiciously.  
  
Harry's mind raced as he tried to think of something.  
  
"Look, Ginny'll probably help you with Hermione, but only if you don't seem like you're trying to run her life."  
  
Ron paused. "Yeah, maybe," he allowed, grudgingly. "But if anyone lays a finger on her. . ." he tailed off, pulling on his last shoe with a sharp tug. 


	6. Chapter Six: September The First

Chapter Six: September the First  
  
Author's Note: The quote in this chapter comes from Harry Potter and the  
Prisoner of Azkaban, p177 UK paperback edition.  
  
Breakfast passed in a blur, though Harry noticed that Ginny had returned to her previous routine of looking at anything but him whenever he tried to catch her eye. He sighed. He really needed her to look at him occasionally if he were going to fulfil his resolution.  
  
Hagrid bustled around, setting up Portkeys at each of the Cauldron's tables.  
  
"They're special," he said. "Deliver yeh straight to Platform 9 and ¾, these will. Dumbledore enchanted them especially, so as they'd get though the spells protecting Kings Cross from Dark Magic and the like. Great man, is Dumbledore. Great man," he finished, setting the last Portkey in front of Harry. Harry looked at it nervously, remembering now that he'd even prefer travelling by Floo to another Portkey voyage.  
  
"Now, Harry, there ain't nothin' to worry about," Hagrid said, with a whiskery grin. "Seein' as how your tables a bit less crowded, I'll even come with yeh, if yeh like."  
  
Harry looked around, and realised this was true. Fred and George had avoided sitting with Ron and Ginny, and indeed were sitting at quite separate tables, something previously unheard of. Harry couldn't say he was sorry, having Hagrid around made him feel much happier about Portkey travel.  
  
"Right, everyone," Hagrid said, clapping his dustbin lid sized hands loudly. "Grab yerselves a bit of yeh Portkey. That's right. Everyone hold tight. Now, your bags an' stuff are already on the train. Got picked up las' night, see? So, no worrying about that. Yeh can change when you get to Hogwarts. Right," he added, pulling out his watch. "I reckon as we've got about a minute left. Thanks for all this, Tom," he added, as the Cauldron's landlord appeared from the kitchen. A chorus of thanks rose from the crowd of students, and Hagrid could just be heard over the noise.  
  
"Right. 'Old tight everyone. Five. Four. Three. Two. One!"  
  
The familiar tug jerked everyone forward, and space swirled around them as they plummeted sideways the few miles to Kings Cross. To Harry, it felt much gentler than his previous trips by Portkey, maybe because of the much shorter distance involved. The landing was softer, as well. They dropped a couple of inches onto the platform at King Cross, and Harry grinned as he saw the familiar red locomotive exhaling huge gasps of steam as it prepared for the long haul northwards.  
  
"Right. Ten to eleven. Everyone hop on board now," Hagrid said, looking around constantly. He nodded to other members of the Hogwarts staff, each of whom was shepherding students onto the train. Harry waved to Professor Flitwick, and weathered a sneer from Professor Snape, before he climbed aboard and found the apartment he'd been told his luggage was in. He wasn't surprised to find himself sharing with Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, and grinned as he realised that they'd be sharing with Seamus and Lavender as well. He caught Ron's eye, and the two friends struggled not to laugh as they imagined their roommate forced to sit quietly with his girlfriend right beside him.  
  
Hagrid walked along the carriage, ticking names off on his register. When he marked the last of the names, he waved out the window to the guard, who nodded as he collected signals from the other teachers. With the last of the signals, he climbed aboard the last carriage, and waved his flag. The shrill blast of his whistle was greeted by the piping of the engine's own whistle, and the Hogwarts Express began to pull away.  
  
Soon, the train was steaming through unspoiled acres of green countryside, and the six students in Harry's compartment chattered merrily away. "Wonder who'll be Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher this year?" Seamus asked, surreptitiously squeezing Lavender's hand. Harry gave a start as he realised he hadn't even thought about the post being vacant again. Would there ever be a teacher who lasted more than three terms?  
  
"Oh, Harry," Hermione said. "Didn't you say you had something for Colin's birthday? I heard one of his friends say that it was next week. Do you want to give him his present now? You know how hard it is to find someone once term starts." She said all this with a series of meaningful glances at Ginny, who was sitting by the window, clearly lost in thought as the scenery sped past outside.  
  
"Yeah, good idea," Harry said, dragging his trunk down from the luggage rack ("Ouch!" "Oh, sorry Ron.") and digging into it for the brightly wrapped package he and Ginny had found in Muggle London, something they hadn't mentioned to Mr or Mrs Weasley. Harry suspected that Voldemort wouldn't want anything to do with such a dense concentration of Muggles, but Hermione had been horrified when he'd mentioned it.  
  
"Ginny, do you want to come and say hello as well?" he asked. Ginny looked up with a start, and Harry could see her blush already starting. He wondered what she'd been thinking.  
  
Oh, why now? Ginny thought. Just when I was starting to feel less embarrassed about last night. Why does he want me to go with him? If only I could just think that he was being polite, but I think he wants to talk. Ground, if you want to open up and swallow me, now would be a good time. . .  
  
"Yes, okay then," she managed to say, and was quite pleased with the steadiness of her own voice.  
  
*  
  
They walked along the corridor in silence, the spectre of the previous evening hanging heavy over them. Ginny was the first to break.  
  
"Harry, I. . ." she said, and cursed herself inwardly. Of all the stupid things to say. Now he wants to hear what you're going to say. Just for once, Ginny Weasley, learn to keep your mouth shut!  
  
"Ginny, if it's about last night," Harry began, stopping to look at her. He paused as his eyes traced over her face, trying to read the emotions playing across it. "Um, if it's about last night, I just wanted to say thank you for saving me from having to spend the next five hours washing my face. I reckon Fred still had soot behind his ears this morning."  
  
In spite of herself, Ginny couldn't help but smile. Harry grinned as he watched her expression brighten.  
  
"Besides, I'd have got it all in my hair and, well, you can imagine how long it takes to wash this hair. It all gets tangled, and it grows at all kinds of angles anyway. . ." He ran a hand through his hair, giving it a whole new range of angles to grow out of. "Your hair is amazing," he heard himself saying.  
  
Oh, just great, Potter. 'Your hair is amazing'? Where'd that come from? Now she thinks you're mad.  
  
"You really think so?" Ginny said, blinking as though she couldn't quite believe what she'd said.  
  
"Er, that is, yes," Harry said, wincing. "I mean, it catches the light, and it looks like fire dancing. . ." Appalled at the words emerging form his mouth, he reached out and stroked a hand through her hair, anything to distract her from the clumsy phrases tumbling unguarded from his lips.  
  
He raised his eyes, trying to meet her gaze. Just for once she held the look, her eyes meeting his as she bit her lip, unsure of her thoughts, unable to speak, just knowing that she was standing alone with Harry Potter, his fingers tracing gently through her hair. She trembled slightly, her nervousness, she was sure, perfectly visible. This is all I've ever dreamed about. Why am I so nervous? He must think I'm so stupid. . .  
  
Suddenly, Harry's hands were both running through her hair. He breath caught in her throat as he took her head in his hands, tilting it back slightly.  
  
This is how you kiss someone, right? She looks pretty nervous, but this is what Fred does to Angelina.  
  
Is he going to kiss me? He's going to kiss me. This isn't happening. I'm asleep. I'm dreaming. Why am I so nervous?  
  
He shuffled forward slightly, bringing his face closer to hers.  
  
It's cold in here. Dark, too. Are we going through a tunnel? We've only been going ten minutes. There's no tunnels this close to Kings Cross.  
  
Harry pulled back, the moment lost. He saw something black flash past the window, and then-  
  
BANG!!!  
  
Harry and Ginny were thrown to the floor of the carriage, and there was the sound of smashing glass. The train was screeching along the rails, its brakes magically augmented to shorten stopping distances. Through the shattered windows Harry could see a black silhouette rise up. An ice-cold jolt of fear stabbed deep into his stomach, and even as he tried to climb to his feet he stumbled, and sank back to his knees. Vivid images that he would rather forget flooded his mind. He was oblivious even to Ginny sobbing violently beside him.  
  
"Not Harry! Not Harry! Please - I'll do anything-"  
  
"Stand aside - stand aside, girl-"  
  
Harry shook his head, muzzily. The voices seemed to be coming from across a great distance, and he thought he knew why. He'd met the real Voldemort just a few months previously. The childhood memory didn't seem to hold as much fear for him anymore.  
  
"Dementors. . ." he managed to say. Then a great hoarse bellow shook the carriage, and Harry realised that, even as he began to fall back to that dreadful night when his parents died, Hagrid was under attack from the former Azkaban guards.  
  
He shook his head, trying to clear the memories. His mind seemed to be working somewhere, somewhere far off. The teachers. They're going after the teachers. Then we'll be easy to take.  
  
"Hagrid!" he cried, and suddenly his mind was clearer. Hagrid had survived Azkaban, so Harry could survive now. He'd beaten the Dementors before, so he could do it again. He felt a pressure on his leg, and when he looked down, he realised Ginny had reached out to him. He took her hand in his, and felt a great warmth flood through him. He climbed to his feet, supporting Ginny on one arm as he reached for his wand, pulling it grimly from his belt. Slowly at first, then faster, he made his way down the carriage. He could see great bursts of silver light illuminating the sudden darkness that had fallen over the train, and then-  
  
The Dementor pulled itself through a broken window, and unfolded itself to its true height. Towering above Harry and Ginny, it advanced upon them, it's scabrous hands extending from its sleeves. Harry smiled grimly the memory of Oliver Wood handing him the Quidditch Cup in his third year flashing across his mind as he raised his wand.  
  
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!!" he bellowed, and at once a huge stag erupted from the end of his wand. The stag charged down the Dementor, bowling it over and trampling it beneath its shining hooves. The Dementor fought ferociously, clawing at the insubstantial stag even as it was borne to the ground. The Patronus reared up on its back legs, before bringing its full magical weight down on the Dementor's chest, knocking the creature unconscious.  
  
Harry collapsed against the wall of the carriage, watching as the Patronus turned and trotted back to him. As the silvery stag grew nearer Harry felt the last of the fear dissipate, and smiled faintly. He helped Ginny to her feet, and threw her arm over his shoulder. With one arm around her waist, he half led, half carried her past the unconscious thing, further toward the far end of the carriage, where he could hear Hagrid's voice bellowing. The Patronus trotted alongside them, its silvery glow illuminating the corridor. As they neared the end of the corridor, it charged forward once again, heading toward the sound of Hagrid's voice. It slammed into something solid, bearing it to the floor, and Harry realised that part of the blackness had been another Dementor, its dark robes hiding it in the shadows.  
  
"Harry!" Hagrid's voice cut through the gloom, and Harry grinned as Hagrid appeared from out of the darkness. "Well done," he said, his pink umbrella incongruously bright in the darkness. "I think that's the las' of 'em in this carriage. I'm going teh go help the other teachers. Think yeh can keep an eye on this carriage, in case they try anything else?"  
  
Harry nodded, feeling the cold fear begin to resettle in stomach as Hagrid strode away. Beside him, the Patronus began to fade. He slowly became aware that Ginny was still beside him, and he squeezed her gently, trying to get any response from her as she shook in his arms. "Ginny," he said "Ginny!" he repeated, louder this time.  
  
He took her chin in his hand and tilted her head back. Her hair was streaked across her face, and he could barely make out her eyes, even as red as they were from the tears she had shed. She was still weeping, apparently deaf to the world. He frowned and began to lead her towards the compartment they were sharing with the others.  
  
When he got there, he slammed the door open and found himself staring at the spell ends of four wands, each with one of his friends behind it. Lavender looked surprisingly calm, Ron and Seamus grim and determined, while Hermione looked a little nervous, her wand weaving slightly. When they realised who was at the door, they relaxed, and Hermione rushed forward to help Ginny.  
  
"I have to go back out there," Harry said, noting with a certain sense of irony how his resolution to be mature, and a guiding light, was coming back to haunt him. He tried to hand Ginny over to Hermione, but Ginny refused to release her grip on Harry.  
  
"No," she said, her voice weak. "Harry, please. Don't leave." Harry looked down at her, knowing that her face was buried against his chest. He relented.  
  
"It's okay, Ginny," he said. "I'm not going anywhere right now. If another Dementor comes in, I have to go, though, okay?"  
  
She nodded against his chest, and he sighed. He wrapped his arms around her, feeling her shaking as he did so. He lowered himself gently into the compartment seat, and let Ginny settle herself in his lap, her arms wrapped tightly around him, her tears soaking slowly through his robes and wetting his shoulder. Ron looked to be full of questions, but Harry shook his head. He could see Ron's jaw tighten, doubtless in frustration at his inability to help his sister. Then he jumped to his feet and began rummaging through his trunk, before pulling out a big bar of chocolate and breaking it into chunks.  
  
"Here," he said, handing it to Harry, and pushing some at Ginny. "Professor Lupin used chocolate, remember?"  
  
"Thanks, Ron. I forgot. Do you know what happened?"  
  
"No. All we know is that it went dark, then Hagrid came running down here, yelling his head off, and slamming all the doors with magic. Next thing, we started to hear the screams, and."  
  
"It was horrible," Seamus continued. "Like when me gran died. I felt just like that all over again."  
  
Hermione nodded. "The Dementors must have swarmed the train. I wonder how they got it to stop? There are a lot of spells protecting it. Probably more today than usual."  
  
"Ginny?" Ron said, stepping forward and stroking his sister's head as she slowly ate the chocolate. "Ginny, come on. We're all here, Ginny, you're okay."  
  
Slowly, Ginny's shaking became less violent, and she raised her head from Harry's shoulder, looking around blearily, her mouth surrounded by a ring of chocolate. "Are they gone?"  
  
Harry listened intently, stretching to hear any sounds of battle. "I think they have. I don't feel scared anymore."  
  
"You were scared?" Ginny said, still holding him tightly. "But you fought them off. You saved me again. . ." she tailed off.  
  
"Ginny, the first few times I saw the Dementors, they made me black out. Professor Lupin taught me how to beat them, and that's the only difference. I was just as scared as you were, believe me."  
  
"Harry, how do you beat them?" Ginny asked, weakly. "I've seen you do that silver spell before, when you were playing Quidditch. What is it?"  
  
"It's a Patronus," Harry said. "A guardian, I suppose. It's like all that is brave and good about you taking on a body and charging down the Dementor."  
  
"Could you teach me how to do it?" Ginny asked, timidly. "I mean, if it's not too much trouble-"  
  
"Of course I will," Harry said immediately. He'd gladly do anything he could do to keep Ginny from feeling this bad again.  
  
Suddenly the train gave a lurch, and began moving again. Hermione heaved a huge sigh of relief. A couple of minutes later, Hagrid appeared at the door.  
  
"All right, everyone?" he asked. Harry could see a cut above his eye, but he didn't look too bad. "Nasty business, all that. Ruddy things faded away when we tried to tie 'em up, too. Probably had Portkeys, 'cos I don't think they can do that by themselves. Anyway, I already sent an owl up to Hogwarts to let 'em know what happened. Reckon Professor Dumbledore will 'ave a few words to say, so I do.  
  
"Listen, Harry," he went on. "Jus' wanted to say thank you for helping out back there. Almos' got overwhelmed. Then I had to help Professor Sinistra in the next carriage down, so I reckon you bein' here helped a lot. Good on yeh," he finished. With a whiskery smile he moved on to the next compartment along.  
  
Ron grinned at Harry, who had gone quite as red as Ginny ever did. "Hey, Harry, reckon you've got off to an early start winning us some points?"  
  
"It all happens to you, doesn't it Harry?" Lavender said. "But thank you for taking care of those Dementors. I really didn't want them coming in here."  
  
"Yeah, thanks Harry," Seamus said. "D'you reckon the teachers will let us all learn how to do that Patronus spell? Could be useful if them things are going to be about."  
  
"I expect they will," Hermione said. "Ron's father said that he would be advising all wizards at the Ministry of Magic to practise the spell. I do hope that Professor Dumbledore agrees."  
  
Harry felt Ginny's grip on him loosen, and she sat up, brushing the hair from her eyes. She seemed to suddenly realise that she was sitting on Harry's lap, and gave a small squeak, trying to jump up again. She lost her balance, and fell back onto him, which made both of them flush red. Harry saw Ron's mouth open, and then slam shut, as he decided not to repeat Fred and George's mistake. Instead, he got up and helped Ginny to her feet. Ginny took a seat next to Hermione, as far from Harry as she could manage, and he sighed inwardly. She made a great show of checking her appearance in a makeup mirror, and gave a small wail as she realised how red her eyes were. Jumping up, she grabbed Hermione's hand and fled in the direction of the toilet.  
  
Ron looked after them, and sighed. "Girls!" he said, with feeling. "Uh, no offence, Lavender," he added, hastily. 


	7. Chapter Seven: Time to Think

**__**

Chapter Seven: Time to Think

"A thousand years ago or thereabouts

There stood the Hogwarts Four

Gryffindor and Slytherin

Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw

The hat you see before you came

From the head of Gryffindor

That I might place those still to come

In their proper house for evermore

So try me on, and I will see

To which house you do belong

Rest assured, 'though I am old

I'm also never wrong

So if you feel like working hard

Then your home's in Hufflepuff

Or perhaps in Slytherin

Where they like their housemates rough

Perhaps instead you're super smart

You'll fit well in Ravenclaw

Or, last but certainly not least

A lionheart? Then Gryffindor

So come now, and take your first steps

In this school of magic fine

Make it quick! Now hurry up!

The teachers want their wine!"

As always, rapturous applause and loud cheering greeted the Sorting Hat's poem of greeting. Professor McGonagall called the first student forward ("Angel, Susanne!") and Harry settled into his seat. As the line of new first years – the longest yet, Ron commented – slowly dwindled, Harry looked around for Colin or Ginny. He had Colin's present in the pocket of the robe, retrieved as he'd got off the Express, and wanted to give it to him. But he also wanted Ginny to be there. He leaned around Ron, who was watching "Ferric, Andrew!" getting Sorted, and whispered to Hermione, "Where's Ginny? Is she okay?"

"She went straight up to the dormitory. So did a couple of the others who saw the Dementors. Neville's not here, did you notice?"

Harry looked around, and realised that Hermione was right. He knew, too, why Neville wasn't there. He suspected that he knew exactly what Neville imagined when the Dementors had attacked, the torture of his parents at the hands of die-hard Death Eaters. Harry felt a great wave of pity wash over him. He tried to fight it. He suspected that the last thing Neville wanted was pity, the same way that the last thing Harry wanted was pity for what had happened to him. He tried to think of a way to cheer Neville up, and decided to get Ron, Seamus and Dean involved too. As the four all shared a room with Neville, they'd surely be able to come up with something.

Finally, the first years were all sorted, and Harry grinned as the golden platters in front of them became loaded with food. He filled his own plate with roast chicken and began to eat, smiling at Ron, who was being subjected to the revitalised Hermione's rant on the dreadful subjugation of house elves. Harry, meanwhile, was rereading the letter he'd been handed by Professor McGonagall on arrival at the school. As the traditional Prefects meeting on the Express had been cancelled due to the Dementors, McGonagall had detailed the Prefects duties that he, Hermione, Ron and Seamus would be carrying out that year, as well as giving them the first password for the Fat Lady's portrait: Stand Against Evil.

As the last of the food faded, Professor Dumbledore rose to his feet.

"Welcome," the headmaster began. "Welcome to another school year. I ask you to bear with me for I know you are tired, and many of you will now be wishing to visit the hospital wing in search of a cure for indigestion." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as the students laughed.

"So, please bear with me while I run through our start of term notices. Now, as many of you will be aware, the Dementors of Azkaban have abandoned their posts as guards of the wizard prison. We can only assume that they have ill intentions, especially as they saw fit to attack the Hogwarts Express. Why am I mentioning this? Well, it has long been my policy that the truth is important. I will be as open as I can be about manners pertaining to the fight against the dark forces that is going on, even as we speak.

"Many of you may have been insulated from this news by your parents, so all I can ask is that you be strong. We face dark times, and it will not be easy, but we fight because we must. Accordingly, you will be all be given extensive lessons in Defence Against the Dark Arts. Now, as older students may know, the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher has for some time now been seen as an unlucky post. The last several incumbents have each only lasted a single year, but the new teacher will, I hope, be proof against this tradition. Ladies and gentlemen, I present your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher; Professor Albus Dumbledore!"

The room seemed to explode with the noise of cheering and applause. Harry was astonished to see Professor Dumbledore actually blush slightly.

"Yes, well, thank you for that warm welcome," Dumbledore continued. "I can only hope that I can remember which end of wand is which, after so many years as a boring old Headmaster.

"Now, other matters… Ah, yes. We have our first award of house points, gained in a most gratifying manner. For so ably assisting the teachers in their fight against the Dementors this afternoon, I am pleased to award twenty-five house points to Mr Harry Potter of Gryffindor house."

The Gryffindor table erupted in cheers and applause once more, and many of the other students joined in. Only the Slytherins stayed silent, and Harry could see, just before Fred and George jumped on top of him, Draco Malfoy staring daggers at him.

*

Once the plates were clear, and the teachers began to direct the students towards their respective common rooms, Harry darted toward the teacher's table.

"Professor McGonagall?" he said. 

"Yes, Mr Potter?" Professor McGonagall replied.

"Um, I was wondering if I could ask a favour," Harry began.

"You wish to help teach people the Patronus charm?" McGonagall asked, shrewdly. "Professor Dumbledore will be teaching it to pupils of fifth year and above in your first lessons. Perhaps he may ask you to assist."

"Oh," Harry said. "Actually, it's not that exactly," he added. "It's, well, it's Ginny Weasley, Professor. She's only in the fourth year this year, but I think she needs to learn it as well. When the Dementors get close to her. . ." he tailed off, sure Professor McGonagall could tell what he didn't want to say.

"I see. Perhaps it's not a bad idea. Yes, I can well imagine what Miss Weasley sees when the Dementors attack. If only for her sake, I think it's an excellent idea, and having you teach her will surely help. As you know, the Patronus charm is an incredibly difficult spell to master, and there is a real chance it may be beyond Miss Weasley's capabilities. In the circumstances, however. . ." McGonagall paused, her eyebrows knitting together.

"Very well, I shall have to obtain Professor Dumbledore's approval, but I don't foresee any problems with that. I shall let you know, Mr Potter."

Harry thanked McGonagall, and turned to leave, but the Deputy Head added;

"Oh, Harry. . ." He turned to face her. "May I say how glad I am to see you coping so well with. . . with what has happened recently. Certainly the Sorting Hat was right in your case," she finished, treating him to a rare smile.

*

Harry dashed up to Gryffindor Tower, catching up with the last of the group as they ducked through the Fat Lady's portrait hole. Ron and Hermione were sitting by the fire, having saved a place for him. Harry grinned as he realised that Hermione was sitting next to Ron -quite closely, too- and they looked very comfortable. He straightened his expression as he walked up to them.

"All right you two?" he asked. Sitting down next to them, he recounted his conversation with McGonagall, watching their reactions as he did so. Ron looked apprehensive, Hermione cautious.

"It's a very tricky spell. There aren't many fully grown wizards who can manage it, let alone someone of our age," she said, finally. "And how will you manage to come up with a Dementor to fight?"

"No Dementors," Ron said, quietly. "Don't even think about it," he added, his voice deadly serious. "I don't want my sister facing Dementors again. At least, not until she can cope better. You don't have to be Hermione to work out what she feels when the Dementors are there. Just don't make her do it yet, ok?"

Harry nodded. "Even if I could get one, I'm not exactly keen to face one any time soon myself," he replied.

"Harry," Ron said, leaning in to emphasise his words. "_Don't hurt my sister._"

With that he got up and went silently up the stairs to bed. Harry looked at Hermione, who shrugged.

"He's always been protective of her. You heard what the last thing Mrs Weasley said was. 'Look after your sister'. It's always been that way, as far as I know. Plus. . . I think there's something else. Harry, do you like Ginny?"

"Of course I do," Harry said.

"As more than a friend?" Hermione asked, her stare focussed intently on Harry. "Because I think Ron thinks you do. And I don't think he's just worried about Dementors hurting Ginny."

She got up, and turned towards her dormitory. "I'm going to check on Ginny before I head off to bed. Is there anything you want me to tell her?"

"Yes," Harry said, staring into the fire. "Tell her that I asked McGonagall. Oh, and tell her that Professor Dumbledore blushes too."

Hermione smiled, and went off to the girls' dormitory area. Harry sat for a long time, and stared at the fire. He thought of how much it reminded him of Ginny's hair, and the thought made him smile. He remembered how he had been about to kiss her on the train. 

__

Is Ron right? Would I hurt Ginny if we got involved? Does Ginny even want to get involved any more? I wanted to kiss her on the train, but why? A few days ago I'd never thought of her that way before. Why was it so different just then?

A thought came to him, something Dumbledore had said. When a wizard saved another wizard's life a bond was established between them. _Is that what I have with Ginny? A bond? Is that all it is? Do I fancy Ginny because of some bond?_

He tried to think about how she had looked when he'd been running his hands through her hair. _Nervous. Scared, even. _

Oh, Potter, _you idiot! She didn't want to kiss you. She was scared! You wanted to kiss her so badly, and now you've scared her away. _

Damn.

He sat for a long time, staring into the fire, trying to think how he could fix the mess he'd created. 

*

The next morning came, and Harry rose early, having spent much of the night composing a long letter to Sirius and Remus. He knew he might be placing them in danger by writing to them, that whatever work they were carrying out for Dumbledore might be spoilt by the arrival of an owl, but for once Harry didn't care. He hesitated as he tied the scroll to one of the school owls, but carried on resolutely. He needed guidance from an older, wiser head, and, short of asking Fred or George for advice, he didn't have much choice. As he watched the owl soar away in the early morning light, he hoped that the risk he was taking wouldn't hurt anyone.

*

Breakfast on Monday morning brought timetables. Harry and Ron sat together at the Gryffindor table, feeling very self-conscious with their prefect badges pinned to their robes. Hermione swept into the Hall, and sat down opposite Ron and Harry. 

"New timetables?" she said. Ron nodded and passed hers over. 

"Defence Against the Dark Arts first thing today," he said. 

"It will be fascinating to see Professor Dumbledore actually teaching something," Hermione said. Harry agreed. He was very fond of Dumbledore, and was looking forward to finally being taught by him. 

"I bet he's brilliant," Ron enthused. He looked over at Harry as his friend's expression changed suddenly. Looking behind him, his own expression froze as he realised Ginny had walked into the Hall.

"Ron," Hermione said suddenly. "We have to talk to Professor McGonagall about the timetables."

"What? What about them?" Ron asked. Hermione sighed.

"Just come on, will you?" she said, grabbing his hand and pulling him around the end of the table. Ginny watched them walk past, and looked nervously at Harry, as though afraid he was going to bite.

"How are you feeling?" he asked carefully, pulling the bench out a little way so she could sit with him.

"O-okay," she stammered. "Listen, Harry. About what I said yesterday, you don't have to teach me the Patronus charm. . ."

"Ginny, it's fine," Harry said, leaning in closer to her. "I'd be happy to. Snape'd probably reckon I'm just showing off, but it's not that. I don't want you to have to go through all that again. I'm just sorry I wasn't quicker yesterday."

"No!" Ginny burst out, drawing curious glances from other students. "You were wonderful, don't say that!"

Harry smiled. "Then don't worry about it. Next time, you can be wonderful too," he added with a mischievous grin. Ginny opened her mouth to reply, and then caught herself, looked at Harry curiously and burst out laughing. Harry joined her, and when Ron and Hermione came back from an entirely pointless talk with Professor McGonagall, they stared in puzzlement at the two friends.


	8. Chapter Eight: Dementors Again

**__**

Chapter Eight: Dementors Again

__

(The quote in this chapter comes from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, p127 UK paperback edition)

Defence Against the Dark Arts seemed to have been moved forward. At least, Harry thought, that would explain why everyone had arrived at least ten minutes early. The Gryffindor students stood impatiently outside the classroom, discussing what techniques they might be practising over the next two hours.

Finally, Professor Dumbledore strode around the corner, and Harry felt sure he saw a gratified look flash across his face as he looked at the assembled students.

"Punctuality is a wonderful thing," he said, as he unlocked the door. "I do hope you all had filling breakfasts, however. I'm afraid I tend to forget about such things as mid-lesson breaks, and that sort of thing."

The students filed into the class, and took their seats. "I'm sure many of you will have noticed that there is no set text for this class. That is because I believe in a purely practical class. In fact, I thought we'd practise straight away. Now, as I believe some of you know, I was once the Transfiguration teacher here. I believe I remember one or two of the spells…"

He walked to the back of the class, and stood next to a large wardrobe.

"Now, the spell you need is called 'Expecto Patronum'," this was greeted with an excited buzz. "Ah, I see you're familiar with the spell. Now, for bonus points, can anyone tell me what the special feature of this spell is? What must you be doing when you cast it?"

Hermione's hand shot up, but Dumbledore shook his head. "No, Miss Granger. Someone else? Mr Longbottom? Miss Patil? Ah, Miss Brown…"

Lavender rarely answered questions in any class other than Divination, but she said, "You must concentrate on a happy memory or thought."

"Very good, Miss Brown. You overheard Professor McGonagall and myself discussing it this morning, I believe? Well, excellent. One should never miss out on the chance to gain an advantage at such a time. We have rules, and we do not break them. However, as Miss Brown has shown, it is possible to bend them at times. Five points for Gryffindor.

"However, that is, in all likelihood, the easiest thing that I will ask of you in this class. The Patronus Charm is a rather complex spell, and were the need for it not so pressing, you would not come across it unless you were to enter the Ministry after you leave here.

"Simply put, it is a tremendously difficult spell to master. Few indeed are those who can conjure a true Patronus. Even if you are extremely good at magic, chances are that you will struggle with conjuring a Patronus. Gryffindor, of course, are lucky to have within their ranks a proficient caster of Patroni. Indeed, I believe Mr Potter mastered the spell in his third year. You may wish to look to Mr Potter as a source of inspiration should you struggle with the Patronus. Alternatively, you may wish to try out Zonko's latest products on your classmate for being an insufferable know-it-all."

The class, which had become somewhat nervous upon hearing Dumbledore's note of caution, laughed, and the atmosphere brightened somewhat.

Dumbledore looked around, and seemed to be searching for something. "Miss Granger, as I denied you your chance to answer my question, I should like you to tackle the Dementor first. Would you come forward?"

Hermione stood reluctantly, and walked up to the wardrobe. "Professor, please. I really don't think I'm the right person-"

"Nonsense. I understand that you have encountered Dementors before?" Hermione nodded, her face pale.

"Well, you are ideal, then. I could ask Harry to face it, and I know he would win, but he already knows the spell, he knows how to fight a Dementor. You, on the other hand, do not. No, you will face the Dementor, and should you defeat it, you will better appreciate your success."

Dumbledore turned to face the wardrobe. "Remember, Miss Granger_, Expecto Patronum_. And think happy thoughts. I myself like to think of my brother's eighteenth birthday, when I discovered just how nice Butterbeer is. I was very happy that night…"

Dumbledore's wand suddenly shot forth a series of sparks, and the wardrobe began to change shape. Hermione, caught by surprise, barely had time to draw her own wand before there stood before her a full size Dementor.

"_Expecto Patronum!_" she cried, frozen in place as the light of the room dimmed around her.

"_Expecto Patronum! Expecto P- Expe-"_

__

"It's no wonder no-one can stand her," Ron said to Harry. "She's a nightmare, honestly!"

"No-one can stand her. She's a nightmare. No-one can stand her. A nightmare. No-one can stand her. No-one can stand her-" Hermione felt her legs go out from under her, and then blackness.

*

__

"Miss Granger, wake up now. Here, have some chocolate," Dumbledore's eyes were concerned behind his glasses, but as soon as Hermione started to move, his face became much cheerier.

"It often takes people like that," he said, helping Hermione up as she nibbled listlessly on some chocolate. "Now, where's your wand, oh, thank you Mr Longbottom."

Hermione sat quietly through the rest of the lesson, barely registering the other students each tackling the faux Dementor. At the end, when Professor Dumbledore announced that the Dementor was actually rather weak compared to the real thing, Hermione whimpered involuntarily, making Ron turn to check on her. She shied away from her friend's inquiring gaze, instead focussing on her wand. She tried to think of any other time when she'd been unable to cast a spell, and failed. This was the only spell she'd never been able to do, and that stung nearly as much as the realisation of her worst fear. She looked up at the Dementor again as Harry advanced on it. She saw his step falter slightly, but then he cast the spell, and a great silver stag erupted from the tip of his wand, charging down the Dementor, which fell to the floor with an almighty crash.

Professor Dumbledore looked in dismay at the remains of the wardrobe from which he had conjured the Dementor.

"Yes, I think you have mastered that spell, Harry," he said waving his wand futilely over the wooden remnants. "Well, at least as Headmaster I can set my own punishment for damaging school property. No sherbet lemons for a week, perhaps…"

*

The Gryffindors left the lesson in high spirits. Although no-one other than Harry had managed to fight back the Dementor, most of the students were cheerful after the exciting session. Only Hermione was downcast, and Ron was quick to offer comfort.

"Come on, Hermione," he said. "Stop worrying just because you couldn't beat the Dementor. So what? No-one cares! What are the chances of running into one of those things again, anyway?"

But Hermione wasn't listening. Stung not only by her failure to cast the Patronus, but also by the memory of her worst fear, she hurried away from Ron and Harry. They looked after her, helplessly.

*

Later that week, Ginny and Harry sat laughing with Ron when Fred and George walked quietly into the Great Hall. The two had been in such low spirits since upsetting Ginny that Harry was beginning to feel sorry for them. Looking around, he saw Colin Creevey talking animatedly to his friends, his ever-present camera dangling from his neck. He also spotted Neville Longbottom, who still looked somewhat subdued after the Dementor's attack. At that moment, Professor McGonagall walked up and stopped beside him, looking down at him and Ginny.

"Mr Potter, Miss Weasley," she said. "Your private practise sessions have been approved by Professor Dumbledore. Potter, as you are a Prefect, I shall give you this, in the belief you won't use it improperly." She handed Harry a key. "It is the key to the Transfiguration classroom on the second floor. Now, I don't wish to hear any reports of Gryffindor students behaving improperly, do I make myself clear?" Harry and Ginny looked at one another, confused, but nodded anyway. "Very well, then. Good luck to you both in your studies. Oh, and Mr Potter, do make sure you pick a good Keeper for the Quidditch team this Saturday."

She walked off, and Harry was struck by a sudden inspiration. He grinned widely for a second, and then jumped from his seat, striding around the table to where Fred and George were sitting, trying not to stare at Angelina and Alicia.

"Fred, George, how'd you like to get the girls back on your side?" he said. Fred and George looked at him hopefully.

"Harry, I think I speak for both halves of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, when I say… How?" George said.

"Help me out with a plan I have for Saturday afternoon…" Harry said.

*

On Friday the plan was put into action. Notes seemed to appear from nowhere in the Gryffindor common room, and soon everyone was invited to a 'quiet gathering' the following afternoon in greenhouse three. The notes were signed F.H.G. which confused most of the students, though a few looked suspiciously at the Weasley twins.

The following morning, Quidditch practise was begun with the selection of the new team Keeper. Harry wore his glowstone for the first time, and was extremely grateful for the warmth Hermione's present supplied. The brisk autumn air had the team shivering as they re-familiarised themselves with their brooms. 

After a short shooting session in which Katie, Alicia and Angelina quickly whittled down the hopefuls for the vacant goalkeeper's spot, Ron was left to face a third year by the name of James Staunton. The shots rained in from every angle, but the two hopefuls were equal to the challenge, until Ron pulled off a stunning save that made James concede defeat. He graciously accepted a place in the reserves, with the friendly promise to push Ron hard for a place in the team.

"Three Weasleys in the team!" Fred bellowed. 

"Can't wait till Bill and Charlie hear about this," George added. Both twins seemed to have recovered some of their natural exuberance in the light of the previous night's activities.

"Now, as for the captaincy…" Angelina interrupted, her expression still a little frosty when she looked at Fred or George. "I don't think there's much to decide. Harry still has three years to go, so it has to be him. We'll all be much too busy with our N.E.W.Ts to focus properly. In theory," she added, with another glance at Fred and George.

"I'll do it, but only if Ron is co-captain," Harry said quickly. "He knows more about Quidditch than I do."

"Wow, Harry, really?" Ron gasped, his mouth wide open. Fred and George slapped their hands to their foreheads in mock despair.

"How could you, Harry?" George sighed heavily. "Our own little brother, Captain of the house team."

"He'll be a terror," Fred agreed. "You thought Oliver was bad…"

The team laughed, and headed back towards the Gryffindor common room, the hour of the gathering drawing near.

*

Hermione was delighted with the news of Ron's sudden elevation. She hugged him impulsively, then pulled away, looking a little flustered. Harry could barely hide his grin, especially when he saw how red Ron was blushing. They joined Seamus, Lavender, Dean and Neville as they trooped across the grounds toward greenhouse three, Harry's heart thumping as he prayed that Fred and George had done their work properly.

As the Gryffindors gathered at the greenhouse door, the greenhouse filled slowly with black smoke, and the lights inside flickered. As the interior of the greenhouse became fully black, the door swung open soundlessly, and out came two dark figures, garbed in the robes of the Dementors.

However, instead of being scared, the Gryffindors began to laugh. These Dementors were about four foot tall, and each had 'Boo!!' emblazoned in glowing gold letters across the front of their black robes.

"Are we scary?" intoned one of the mini-Dementors.

"Er, no," Angelina said, stepping forward and pushing the hood back off it's head. Fred Weasley was revealed beneath, grinning hugely. Alicia Spinnet stepped forward and removed the other Dementor's hood, revealing George Weasley's freckled face.

"Well?" Alicia said, tapping her foot impatiently.

"Er… We… that is, Fred, our partner and myself, decided that we all needed cheering up after the Dementors tried it on the train. So we're going to party."

"Yeah, that's right. There's a few other reasons as well," Fred added. "Like we wanted to say sorry to our sister for being gits…"

"…and it's Colin's birthday…"

"…and one of our new co-captains ordered us to do it," Fred finished.

"What do you reckon, Ginny?" Katie asked.

"Make them stand up," Ginny said, her eyes narrowed. Fred and George glanced at each other, and slowly stood up, revealing that their Dementor robes ended just above their knees, and exposing their milk white lower legs to the assembled crowd.

"I think they're forgiven now," Ginny said, trying hard not to burst out laughing.

"Agreed," Angelina said, leaning forward and kissing Fred. Beside her, Alicia did the same to George, who even more than his brother looked delighted with the result. Harry pushed forward through the crowd.

"I now declare this party… Open!" he yelled, waving his wand at the smoke in the greenhouse. It dissipated quickly, revealing the interior hung with red and gold decorations, and the potting benches covered in plates of food and jugs of drink. The Gryffindors roared their approval, and rushed into the greenhouse.

*

The party went on for several hours, until Hagrid came to chase them away. Harry finally managed to give Colin his present, a book of award-winning photographs from the Muggle sporting world. He also took the time to thank Colin for his own thoughtful birthday present, which turned Colin Ginny-red, and made his friends jealous and delighted in equal measures.

Neville seemed to have recovered, Harry noticed. He was dancing with Daniella Spinnet, right next to George and Alicia, and was joining in the banter between the two couples. As Harry looked on, he seemed to land a verbal jab that had George reeling away in mock agony, and Daniella laughing uncontrollably. Neville flushed red with pleasure at winning the small victory, and Harry grinned.

Towards the end, Harry saw Ginny dancing and laughing with several of her friends, and dodged out on the dance floor to try and grab her for a quick word. As he passed Hermione, who was chatting happily with Angelina and Fred, he felt his feet tugged from under him, and went sprawling ignominiously at Ginny's feet.

"We must stop meeting like this," Ginny said through the laughter as she helped Harry up. "I don't suppose all that effort was to try and get me to dance with you?" she asked, her eyes twinkling.

"Another time?" Harry begged off, rubbing his bruised hip. "I think a slow limp is about all I'm good for now. I could have sworn there was nothing in my way… Ah well, I just wanted to ask when you were free for practising the Patronus, if you still want to, that is."

"Um, what about tomorrow night? I don't have much homework yet."

"Really? Professor Binns gave us loads."

"Wish you were back in the fourth year, Harry?"

"If you were there with me? Of course," he said, teasingly. Even as he said it, however, he cursed himself. _Wonderful, Potter. What next? Going to try and kiss her again? Just when she seems to have forgiven you for last time._

Ginny, meanwhile, was looking at him curiously. "Think I'd let you copy me, do you?" she said, at last.

"Would you let me if I asked?" he replied, staring at her over the top of his glasses. Inside, his stomach churned as he tried to gauge her reaction. He wasn't at all experienced at flirting, but with Ginny, it seemed to be all he could do.

"I think maybe I should say no," she replied, quietly. "Who knows what you might ask me for after that?"

It was at just that moment that Hagrid came bursting through the doors, completely killing the mood.

*

"Hermione, that was horrible!" Ginny whispered, as Hagrid shepherded the Gryffindors back to the school.

"You wanted Harry to talk to you, didn't you?" Hermione asked.

"He was coming over to talk to me anyway!" Ginny hissed.

"In that case," Hermione replied, "you may have noticed that you're much happier talking to Harry when he's looking a bit silly. If he'd come over looking like the House Quidditch Captain and party organiser, how do you think you would have reacted."

"Well…" Ginny said, but then retaliated. "Well, so what? He doesn't like me that way, Hermione. He was teasing me, so he must think I don't like him anymore. So, that's that. I can get on with my life. No magic bond. I'm Harry's friend."

She hurried on ahead, leaving Hermione to shake her head alone. But only for a second.

"What was all that about?" Ron asked, popping up by her side.

"Girl talk," Hermione said.

"My sister having girl talk? Not sure I like the sound of that, Hermione," Ron said, grinning. Hermione stopped short.

"Ron, what would you do if Ginny liked someone?" she asked.

"Don't know," Ron said. "Why, does she?"

"I was just wondering," Hermione said, evasively. "You're always so protective of her, you, Fred, George, all of you."

"She's our little sister, how are we supposed to be? And yeah, okay," he added, holding up his hand as Hermione went to reply. "She's her own person, and has to make her own mistakes, but maybe there are times when we can stop her having to. I know she doesn't like it sometimes, but can you imagine the letters Mum'd send us if she got hurt?"

"You didn't answer my question," Hermione said, gently. He looked at her curiously, but shrugged and went on.

"Oh, I don't know. I guess, if he was an okay sort like Dean, or, or. . . I don't know, Harry maybe, then that'd be okay. But if you're trying to tell me my sister likes Malfoy…" he grinned.

"Don't worry," Hermione replied. "If Ginny does like someone, I think you'll find she'd have better taste than that."


	9. Chapter Nine: Confessions, Carousing and...

**__**

Chapter Nine: Confessions, Carousing and Catching On

The next morning Hermione was treating herself to a lie in. At least, she was trying to, but she was awoken by someone prodding her shoulder.

"Crookshanks, in your basket," she murmured in her sleep.

"Hermione!" a voice hissed. A male voice. She sat bolt upright.

"Who's there?" she said, grabbing her wand from under her pillow. "I'm warning you. . ."

Harry's head appeared in mid air, and then the rest of him followed as he pulled off his invisibility cloak. "Can you put that down, please, Hermione?" he asked, sounding very tired. Dark circles ringed his eyes, and it was obvious that Harry hadn't slept much that night. "I need to talk to you."

"Harry? What couldn't wait until this afternoon?"

Harry looked around, making sure the curtains on Hermione's bed were fully drawn. "Ginny," he said.

"Oh," Hermione replied. "Well, I can't say I didn't wonder," she said. "You've spent more time with her these last few weeks than me or Ron, did you know that?"

Harry looked as though he were going to protest, and then sighed. "You're right," he said. "And now I don't know what's going on."

"Do you like her?" Hermione asked. "More than as a friend, I mean."

"Yeah, I do, and I don't know why. I don't know if I like her because of who she is, or because of this bond thing we're supposed to have, or if it's just because she's so pretty. . . I don't know what I'm supposed to do!" Harry said. "Listen, Hermione, you can't tell her this, okay? Or Ron! Or anyone, for that matter, but especially not Ron. He'd kill me."

"Before you start thinking about how Ron will react, hadn't you better decide whether you actually like Ginny or not?"

"Hermione, has she said anything to you about me?"

"Harry, if she did, I couldn't tell you, unless she said I could. I could ask her if it's alright to tell you. . ."

"No! Then she'd know I was asking, and she'd know I liked her, and if she doesn't like me. . ." Harry tailed off, sinking back onto Hermione's bed. "I'm being stupid. I know she only likes me as a friend, so why can't I get her out of my mind?" He stood up wearily, and walked despondently from Hermione's room.

"There dwells the brave, the strong, the lionheart," Hermione murmured.

*

Sunday evening came, and Harry made his way down to the Transfiguration classroom, making a face at the door of Moaning Myrtle's toilet as he passed. At least she didn't have to worry about facing the next several hours alone with the person she liked.

He unlocked the classroom, and sent bursts of flame to the candles. He looked at his wand, and polished it with the edge of his robe. Then he pointed it at his reflection in the classroom window, and murmured "_Expecto Patronum_." A bright silver mist flowed gently from the end of his wand, and hung gracefully in the air in front of him for a few seconds, adding its light to the meagre illumination created by the sparse array of candles in the room.

"That's what you have to teach me," Ginny said, making Harry jump. "Should I be worried if you're practising?"

"Do you practise moving silently?" he asked, concentrating on his wand, and resolutely not turning. "Or is it a natural gift."

"Natural, I think. Or at least it comes from trying to move around in a house with eight other people in it. You learn to be quiet, or everyone starts shouting at you."

"Everyone shouts at me at home anyway," Harry replied. _Great, self pity. And you're helping her? Good grief!_

"Harry, if you ever want to talk about it. . ." Ginny said, suddenly. Harry spun on his heel. 

"I'd rather not," he said, gently. "Shall we start practising?"

__

Great, just great. Pity from you, of all people. Just what Harry Potter has always wanted.

"Sounds good," Ginny said, her voice catching a little. Harry smiled down at her, and she sat down rather heavily on one of the benches.

"Relax, Gin, nothing to be worried about. I don't think we'll bother with a Dementor just yet. For my own good as much as yours," he added with a grin. Ginny managed a small smile.

"Right, it's as easy as it looks. Think of the happiest thought you can, and say '_Expecto Patronum!_'"

Ginny tried, thinking of the past summer holidays at the Burrow. "_Expecto Patronum!_"

Nothing happened. "What are you thinking of?" When she told him, he shook his head. "I think that may be too broad a memory," he said, his voice sounding very clinical. "Try focussing on one specific happy memory. When we were all at dinner, maybe?"

Ginny focussed on one very specific memory, and tried again. This time, a thin, faint wisp of silver like a strand of hair emerged slowly from her wand. Harry grinned.

"A good start," he said. "May I ask what the memory was?"

"It was, well, it was that morning I stole your socks. . ." Ginny said quietly, fighting valiantly against the blush that had started somewhere around her toenails. She looked up, and was surprised to see that Harry, as far as she could tell, was blushing as brightly as she was.

__

Just a friend, Potter. Just a friend.

*

Time passed, as it ever does. September turned into October, and homework began to pile up. Only Hermione managed to avoid handing in anything late. As it was, Harry wasn't sure why he kept making time for his private sessions with Ginny.

__

You can't lie to yourself, you know. Of course you know why.

Ginny was every bit as snowed under as Harry, despite her easier start to the year. She was even beginning to wonder if she should give up the Patronus classes.

__

How will you feel if you fail? How will you feel if HE fails?

One morning at breakfast, however, the need for the Patronus charm was brought home to them in full force. As Harry came down to breakfast, he realised that many of his fellow Gryffindors were staring ashen faced at the table. Ron was holding a copy of the Daily Prophet, and Harry shuddered as he recognised the shape in the front-page picture. 

"The Dark Mark," he said, quietly. He took the paper, and read the lead story.

****

DARK MARK SEEN AGAIN

The Ministry of Magic has been rocked by claims that it has been covering up attacks by Death Eaters and Dementors, the former allies of You Know Who.

The Hogwarts Express is said to have been the first target. It is reported that the train fell victim to an attack by the Dementors, the soul-sucking former Azkaban guards.

Since then, several attacks have been reported, but remain unverifiable. However, the appearance of the Dark Mark over a public park in Wolverhampton has been linked to reports of missing local warlock Thomas Portland, a prominent member of the Ministry's Unspeakables task force.

Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, is currently unavailable for comment, although an assistant opined that the Dark Mark was probably nothing but a scare tactic, cast by the fragmented remains of You Know Who's followers.

"More attacks," Harry said, heavily. He looked around the table. "Do you think the Ministry would really cover up this sort of thing?"

Almost as one, the four Weasleys looked down at the table. Hermione glanced at them, but said nothing. 

"It's scary stuff," Seamus said, breaking the silence. "Maybe the Ministry is fighting the war secretly? It'd be a bit stupid to admit they had people out looking for the Death Eaters. It'd put Ministry employees and their families at risk."

"Harry?" Ginny said, her voice firm as she looked at the paper. "Do you think you could find any more time for our sessions?"

Harry looked up. Part of him still wanted to back away from more time with Ginny, but part of him knew that it was a good idea to step things up. The more people who could fight the Dementors, the better. That much was clear now. Reaching across the table, he took Ginny's hand in his, and squeezed it gently.

"Of course. And if anyone wants to join us, they'll be very welcome."

*

A few days later, Harry received a reply from Remus and Sirius.

__

Hey Harry, hope all is well, wrote Remus

__

Don't worry about writing to us. We're not doing anything too top secret right now. And we certainly enjoy hearing from you. A personal letter from the Boy Who Lived? Padfoot is off arranging serialisation rights as we speak. . .

Seriously, Harry, it's good to hear from you. I'm glad that what I taught you was of help on the trip, and it's always nice to hear about Gryffindor getting one up on the other houses.

Do we think the Dementors will try again? Hard to say. No-one even knows if you're a target anymore. Voldemort may have wanted you dead for a reason, or it may have been to just finish the job he started all those years ago. We think you'll be safe at Hogwarts, though.

As for the rest of the letter. . . I suppose myself or Sirius should have found a way to have this talk with you a long time ago, but here goes. When a man and a woman love each other very much. . .

No, even the Marauders at their worst would never have inflicted that on you, Harry. Nonetheless, you seem to have found yourself a nice complicated mess to work through. It's not time travel, an enchanted diary, or a nesting dragon this time.

It's worse. Much, much worse.

Padfoot won't like me telling you about the first time he fell for a girl, but he went through something similar at your age. He fell for a Ravenclaw girl with a horribly protective brother who couldn't stand old Snuffles. Padfoot spent months trying to work a way out of getting to the girl, and when he did, it turned out she didn't like him. She fancied James. No chance there, of course. Not with your mum on the scene.

Actually, I'm not quite sure what the point of telling you that was. Oh well.

Anyway, you're right, Harry. Before making any more moves, you have to decide what you feel for Ginny Weasley. Don't risk hurting her until you know one way or the other how you feel about her. I'm sure Ron and the other Weasleys will have a few words to say if things do work out between you, so you have enough pain coming your way as it is.

Hope I was of some help,

Mooney

P.S. Padfoot just arrived back. He says hello, and also to ignore anything I told you about his love life. But it's all true. . .

*

Hallowe'en came and went without any further reports of Death Eater or Dementor activity. After an initial flurry of interest, most people seemed to accept the Ministry's explanation about Voldemort's former followers. The Ministry, when questioned, continued to deny any new activity on the part of Voldemort's forces.

"Any suggestion that Voldemort has returned from the dead would be seen as dangerous, scurrilous, rumour mongering," one senior Ministry official was quoted as saying.

In the meantime, homework and the Patronus classes filled up Harry's time. Occasionally, he found a few minutes to collaborate with Ron on Quidditch tactics, but as Ron had surprised everyone by quickly mastering the Patronus spell, they reached an agreement that he would handle the bulk of the day to day work.

The Hallowe'en feast was superb, excelling even over the usual Hogwarts feasts. The students went out of the way to forget the outside world for one night, and in general succeeded triumphantly.

*

A few weeks later, Harry was surprised to notice that the tables were slightly longer than normal when they sat down for their meal. Dumbledore solved the mystery quickly enough, standing and tapping lightly on his goblet.

"The keen eyed among you will have noticed a few more seats at your tables. This is not merely to make way for your expanded stomachs once the fifth helping of puddings have been disposed of. No, tonight, we will be joined by some very special guests." A gong rang out in the corner of the room, Filch striking the great bronze chime four times in succession.

"Ah, I see our guests are ready to join us." Dumbledore waved his wand casually at the huge double doors, which swung open easily. "I ask now that you give a warm welcome to our guests, students from Durmstrang, Wisconsin, Adelaide and Beauxbatons!"

The Great Hall resounded to loud cheers and wolf whistles as four groups of students entered nervously. One of the Beauxbatons students broke ranks, and led her fellow students towards the Gryffindor table.

"'Arry!" she declared. "Ron!" Pulling down her muffler, she flashed a dazzling smile at the two friends which had males in their vicinity dropping cutlery and spilling drink. 

"Fleur!" Harry grinned, standing up and greeting his fellow Triwizard champion warmly. "When did you get here?"

"This morning," Fleur beamed, as she and her fellow Beauxbatons seated themselves at the Gryffindor table. "Professor Dumbledore invited us, in ze spirit of international magical co-operation and all that sort of thing. I have come along to supervise, because I know 'Ogwarts, and because I am still young and like to have some fun." She smiled at the two of them again, batting her long eyelashes at them.

"It is definitely good to be back at 'Ogwarts," she added, smiling winsomely. "Back with my two favourite young men. I must think of some way to thank you properly this time… You did save my sister's life after all."

"Er, not really…" Ron said. "Are you staying long?" he added, politely. Harry could tell he was still a little embarrassed around Fleur.

"Until ze New Year," Fleur explained. "Professor Dumbledore… No, he said we must keep it a secret," she said, smiling at them, accompanied by still more fluttering eyelashes.

"Keep what a secret?" Ron asked.

"Ron! Eef I tell you, it is a secret no more, no?"

"Err… No, I guess not," Ron said, looking blankly at Harry.

"I will say this; Maybe I will say yes this time, hmm?" she smiled widely at Ron again, and Harry could see his friend going red.

"Ah! Professor Dumbledore." Fleur said, looking away. Harry saw Ron wilt out of the corner of his eye as Dumbledore stood.

"Now that we have all met our guests, may I say… Start eating!"

The meal was different to usual, as the students were encouraged to roam freely through the room, swapping names and stories with the foreign students. Fleur seemed to alternate between spending time with him or with Ron, and when she was with Ron, Harry grinned at the realisation that Hermione didn't look too happy about it.

Ron meanwhile, when he was freed of Fleur's presence, stared shrewdly at the way Ginny was frowning at the French girl's incessant displays of affection for Harry. When he felt sure no-one was looking, he grimaced.

Hermione noticed, though.

*

Finally, the dinner wound down, and Harry took one last look at the decorations before departing for bed. As he walked toward the tower, he realised that Fleur was walking beside him.

"Your Professor McGonagall, she said that we would be sleeping in your tower," Fleur explained. "So I think to myself, I will follow Harry. He will lead me true."

"So, why are you staying until the New Year?" Harry asked, trying to maintain his composure under the onslaught of Veela charm.

"Ah, you will find out tomorrow, so Dumbledore says." And Fleur would say no more. When they reached the tower, she kissed Harry on both cheeks, and headed for the girl's dormitories.

"She's a piece of work, isn't she?" Ron said, as they walked up the stairs to their own dormitory. "I mean, the Aussies are a great laugh, and the Americans seem really smart, but Fleur… Good grief."

"I thought you liked her?" Harry said, grinning at Ron.

"Well, yeah, she's nice and stuff," Ron replied, looking uncomfortable. "But she was all over me down there. I was trying to find out what this great secret is, but she just kept fluttering her eyelashes at me." 

"Hermione didn't look too pleased," Harry said absently.

"Yeah, well, probably worried that if Krum shows up, Fleur'd be all over him."

"Ron, haven't you talked to Hermione about Krum yet?" Harry asked, in surprise.

"What do you mean?" Ron asked, as he climbed wearily into bed.

"Look, we've got the match against Slytherin tomorrow. Just. . . take her for a walk or something afterwards. By the lake, maybe."

"Why?" Ron asked. "Why, Harry?" But he was met with silence as Harry feigned sleep.

*

Hermione had already pulled her jumper over her head before she realised that Fleur was standing nervously by her trunk.

"'Ermione, I would like to talk to you," Fleur said, rubbing her hands together. 

"Couldn't this wait until morning?" Hermione asked, irritably. _Or maybe until you've gone back to France?_

"No," Fleur said. "I would like to know what there is between you and 'Arry, or you and Ron."

"What do you mean, what there is?" Hermione asked.

"I know that you were friends last year," Fleur said. "Now I think something more is happening, and I do not want to 'urt anyone. 'Ermione, I am part Veela, it is in my nature to charm those around me. I cannot 'elp it. When I was with the two of them earlier, I had fun. They are kind, and funny, and I responded as Veela do around such men. But 'Arry, and Ron, they act as if they do not notice. I 'ave only seen this before in those who are already spoken for, those who are in the first flush of love… Even married men chase me, though generally they are dreadful bores," she added, passing no comment on the morality of that particular situation. 

"So, are you seeing Ron? Or 'Arry? Or do you know if they 'ave girlfriends?"

Hermione looked blankly at Fleur, trying to understand why the older girl seemed to be viewing her as. . . What? A rival? A confidante?

"Why do you want to know? I mean, aren't you a bit old for them?"

Fleur smiled. "Oh, I would not want to, well, you know… But I do feel very fond of them. They did save my sister from drowning, after all. I thought perhaps I could get to know them better while I am 'ere, but I would not want to be treading on anyone's toes."

"Um, they're both single, at least as far as I know," Hermione said. "But one of my friends likes Harry," she added. "I'd rather you didn't hurt her, so please don't try to get Harry to like you." Hermione paused, realising how silly that sounded. "I mean, I know Harry makes his own choices, but don't try-"

"I understand. Do you think that Ron-"

"Not Ron," Hermione said, emphatically. "I mean, he's…"

"Ah," Fleur said, a little sadly. Then, she brightened somewhat. "Yes, I do understand." She got up and walked towards the door.

"Understand what?" Hermione asked.

"Good luck to you, 'Ermione," Fleur said. "Ron is a wonderful person. And good luck to your friend, as well. Harry is very special."

"Understand what?" Hermione called after her.

Hermione looked after the French girl long after she'd walked out of the room. It wasn't until Ginny wandered in, and asked to borrow some of Hermione's fourth year notes, that she finally snapped out of it.

"Ginny," she said, slowly. "We need to talk. After the match tomorrow, we really need to talk."


	10. Chapter Ten: Slytherin vs Gryffindor

**__**

Chapter Ten: Slytherin vs Gryffindor

__

(This is the missing Quidditch match from the first version of The Dementors' Kiss. Amazing as it may sound, it only merited a single line mentioning the score, something I always regretted but never had the time to fix. Here, for the first time, is the full match, and a somewhat larger part for Draco Malfoy as a consequence. And yes, I do feel a bit like George Lucas.)

"Introducing the Slytherin team. Beaters Crabbe and Goyle, Seekers Higgs, Zabini and Pucey, Goalkeeper Graham Pritchard –just twelve years old, hope nerves get the better of him-"

"JORDAN!"

"-sorry Professor, seriously, good luck kid. I'm sure Crabbe and Goyle won't be too upset if you lose."

Pritchard threw a nervous glance at the hulking figures of Crabbe and Goyle, balanced on top of their brand new broomsticks like elephants on top of knitting needles. They scowled fiercely at everyone and everything, and didn't look at all happy about being up there. Lee had heard that Slytherin had had trouble finding players for their team this year, as they had been so badly beaten by almost everyone in recent years.

"And, of course, the Slytherin Seeker and, since his dad bought the team a set of Nimbus 2010 brooms, their captain-"

"JORDAN!"

"It's true, Professor, we all know it."

Professor McGonagall huffed slightly. "Be that as it may, unless you have proof of bribery, I would prefer you to refrain from such accusations."

"Yes, well, new captain and all around ferret-"

"JORDAN!"

"-Draco Malfoy."

Malfoy waved to the crowd as he swung past on his new broom. Lee admired its sleek lines, but knew that it didn't handle as well as the Firebolt which was flown by Harry Potter. 

In the stands by the changing room, Harry stood before the Gryffindor team. Ron was leaning his head against the wall, muttering to himself. He looked slightly ill, and Harry hoped that he wouldn't throw up once they got on the pitch.

"Okay, we all know how this goes. It's Slytherin out there. They're good, and they've got good brooms, but I know that we're better. We've got experience, talent, and a burning desire to wipe the smug grin off Malfoy's face, right Ron?"

Ron managed a weak nod, but still looked a little green.

"Okay," Harry said, his stomach suddenly giving a violent lurch as he turned to face the doors. "Let's do it."

They mounted their brooms, and the doors swung open before them. As one, they accelerated upwards, a great roar of approval rising from the three-quarters of the crowd who weren't Slytherins. Harry beamed as he relished being back on a broom in front of a huge crowd. He looked back towards Ron, who was puttering along at the back of the team on his Shooting Star. He waved to his friend, who made an uncertain gesture that looked like a wave in return. 

"The reigning champions, Weasley, Weasley, Weasley, Bell, Spinnet, Johnson and Potter, I give you GRYFFINDOR!"

As Lee's magically magnified voice rose above the calls of the crowd, Madam Hooch's whistle called the teams forward. Harry and Ron dropped to the ground to face Malfoy, simultaneous scowls on their faces to warn the Slytherin not to try anything.

"Well, Putter and Diseasely. I was made captain because I'm the best flyer on the team. What about you?"

"Us? We were the best people for the job. We know more about Quidditch then just how to cheat and buy popularity," Harry said. He scowled at Malfoy. "Be honest for once, Malfoy, you bought the captaincy, same way you did your place on the team."

"So what if I did?" Malfoy sneered. "Besides, being captain has certain fringe benefits, although I suppose you oh-so-noble Gryffindors wouldn't be interested in taking advantage of them."

"What are you talking about, Malfoy?" Ron spat. He glared at the Slytherin.

"Well, let's just say that the girls love a Quidditch player. Is that why you have the Mudblood hanging around you all the time, Potter?"

Harry's gauntleted hand slapped across Ron's chest in readiness to hold him back, but Ron didn't move. He and Malfoy looked at Ron in mutual astonishment. Ron was scowling at Malfoy, but made no attempt to attack him. Instead, a knowing smile spread over his features.

"I'll make you pay for that, Malfoy. Here. Today. You're going to lose this match."

"Don't bet on it, you penniless worm."

Malfoy span on his heel and marched away, remembering after several seconds that he had a broom with him. He scowled, mounted up, and flew up towards his team as Madam Hooch landed beside Ron and Harry. Without an opposition player to shake hands with, the two friends shook each other's hands. 

"You'll do great," Harry said, gripping Ron's hand as he held his gaze.

"Yeah, well, I'll try and keep the score low enough that you can catch the Snitch and win," Ron said, a hint of green returning to his face.

"When you're ready," Madam Hooch said. They nodded to her, and mounted their brooms. Madam Hooch waited until they were in position and released the Bludgers. They sped up in the air, and immediately honed in on Harry and Draco. George Weasley deflected one easily enough, but Crabbe missed the one that came at the Slytherins, forcing Malfoy to dip his broom quickly, nearly sending him off it.

"Nice one," Lee crowed, his laughter echoing around the stadium. Harry realised that Lee's was the only voice to be heard. The rest of the stadium was watching expectantly, the first Quidditch match in over a year had tensions running at breaking point.

Madam Hooch bent over the trunk once more, and released the Snitch. It darted upwards and then vanished into the stands by the Hufflepuffs.

And then Madam Hooch stood up straight, the Quaffle in her hands, her whistle held between her lips. With a sharp shrill note, she hurled the Quaffle upwards, and the match was on.

Angelina sped forward on her broom, but even her Nimbus 2000 was too slow as Blaise Zabini seized the Quaffle and flicked neatly around a Bludger hit by Fred. Zabini passed forward to Higgs, a seventh year who had been the Slytherin Seeker before Malfoy bought his way onto the team. Higgs looked as though he had a point to prove, and immediately jinked his way through the challenges of Angelina and Katie Bell. Harry grimaced. He hadn't been expecting Malfoy to opt for skilful Chasers in the wake of Marcus Flint's departure. The Slytherin way had always been brawn over brain, but Zabini and Higgs looked very good indeed.

"Zabini, Higgs, Zabini, Higgs, dive, Ron, dive. . . Oh no! Ten-nil to Slytherin."

As quickly as that, the match was on. The Bludgers flew mercilessly. Slytherin Chaser Pucey was unseated by a well aimed blow from Fred Weasley, and had to dangle from his broom while Gryffindor enjoyed a purple patch, exploiting their numerical advantage to score three times. 

"What's the matter, Pucey, can't you manage a chin up? I thought all of you Slytherins were supposed to be big and strong!"

"JORDAN! If you can't be impartial. . ."

Katie Bell suffered a bloody nose when Crabbe gave up on hitting the Bludger –he hadn't even come close in the twenty minutes that the match had lasted so far- and instead just hit her in the face with his club. Hooch was so furious she gave three penalties to Gryffindor and put Crabbe in detention for a week. Lee was too furious to laugh at the Slytherin Beater, however, the concern for his friend shining through in his commentary. His joy as she recovered to take the last of the three penalties, however, was obvious. 

"Yes! Thirty more points for Gryffindor! That's eighty-twenty! Well done, Katie!"

Goyle took the opportunity of a break in play to try and hit a Bludger at the commentary box. With a wave of her wand, Professor McGonagall stopped the Bludger in mid-air, which allowed Fred to speed up to it and send it crashing into Pucey's stomach. The Slytherin Chaser dropped the Quaffle, allowing Angelina to speed through and score under Graham Pritchard before the young Slytherin even knew she was there.

It was turning into a massacre, and Harry almost felt sorry for the Slytherins. Their Chasers were obviously talented, and had it not been for the uselessness of Crabbe and Goyle, it would have been a very fair match. Malfoy looked exasperated with his friends and, as Alicia Spinnet put Gryffindor up by 100 points to 20, he called for a timeout.

The Slytherin team sank to the ground, Malfoy gesticulating wildly as he glared at Crabbe and Goyle. To Harry's amazement, he snatched Crabbe's club and hit the Beater across the head with it. Crabbe looked dazed, and then toppled backwards, crashing to the ground.

"Well, unusual man-management technique from Malfoy of Slytherin there," Lee commented. "But yes, he's signalling for a substitution. Crabbe gets stretchered off the pitch by Madame Pomfrey –don't worry, it's only a head injury folks- and on comes another second year, Malcolm Baddock. Some of our older students may remember young Malcolm's brother as a rather useful Beater for Slytherin about six or seven years ago. Let's see if the family genes are with young Malcolm, or if he's being too much too soon for our young debutant."

Baddock looked supremely confident as he took Crabbe's –slightly dented- beating bat. He soared upwards on the Nimbus 2010 and immediately cracked a Bludger straight at Harry. Madam Hooch blew her whistle to signify the match's restart, and suddenly Slytherin looked a lot more confident.

The tide had turned. With Baddock at the heart of their attack, Slytherin looked much more competent. They pushed forward at every chance, and while they were still hampered by Goyle's presence, Gryffindor were in turn hampered by Ron.

Harry watched in horror as Blaise Zabini drew Ron further and further wide of the Gryffindor goalposts. Fred and George yelled at Ron to cover his goals, btu Ron didn't hear them. He looked nervous, and very ill, and when Zabini flicked the Quaffle over his head, it was an easy matter for Pucey to catch it and score through Ron's uncovered left post.

Harry, the twins, and the three Chasers all took turns suggesting ways for Ron to improve. Some, in the case of Harry and the Chasers were genuine, other, in the case of the twins, were less so. Harry watched Ron flinch under Fred's murderous glare and wanted to break it up. Slytherin had pulled things back, and were now in the lead by forty points. It was 150-110 and there had been no sign of the Snitch in the hour and more that the match had lasted.

Harry dived forward, eager to break up another Slytherin attack. He pushed down on his broom, eager to squeeze every last drop of speed from it, but he was a fraction of a second too late. He collided with Pucey just as the Slytherin Chaser threw the Quaffle to Zabini. It was an easy task for Zabini to score past Ron as the Gryffindor watched Harry spiral upwards, struggling to regain control of his broom.

"And both Pucey and Potter seem to have come out of the collision okay, although Potter is struggling to hold his broom straight, however, as we all know, Harry's on a Firebolt and so he'll be back on track in just a few seconds."

Even as Lee finished praising Harry's broom, he brought it back under control. With a start, he realised he was hovering right in front of his Gryffindor friends. The match temporarily lost its importance as he locked eyes with Ginny, whose expression was as fierce as Ron's ever was. A new determination filled him, and he was about to turn back to the match when something broke across the gaze he was sharing with Ginny. He looked over at Hermione who was gesturing madly and screaming at the top of her lungs. Harry spun around, and saw Zabini, Pucey and Higgs bearing down on the Gryffindor goal once more. Harry kicked forward, willing his Firebolt to greater and greater speeds even as he realised he was far too late. There was no-one but Ron to stop the three attackers and with a great accompanying groan from the crowd Higgs faked a throw to Pucey and then slotted the Quaffle neatly through Ron's unprotected left hoop.

Ron sunk down to the ground to collect the Quaffle, a dejected look about him. Harry paused in mid-air, glancing back over his shoulder at Hermione, whose gaze was still fixed on Ron. An idea arrived, fully formed, in his mind.

"Ron," he said, sliding smoothly to a halt beside his friend as Ron prepared to remount his broom.

"Just. . . don't, okay? I know I'm going to cost us the match."

"Only if you want to," Harry said. "Listen, if you don't start playing better, I'm going to tell Hermione how you feel about her."

Ron froze, and then turned an expression of abject horror on Harry.

"You wouldn't dare," he stammered.

"Try me," Harry said, kicking off and accelerating up into the air again. Ron sped after him, and with a great roar he threw the Quaffle as hard as he could at Harry's retreating form. Harry flicked his broom at the last second, sending the Quaffle out from under Pucey's fingers at the last second and neatly into the grip of Angelina who rewarded the neat, not-quite-illegal manoeuvre with a terrific shot. Pritchard was left clutching thin air as it rocketed past him to make the score 160-120.

From that point on, Ron played like a man possessed. As the Gryffindor attack pulled back the deficit, every shot, every cross, every pass from the Slytherin Chasers was neatly intercepted. At one point he repeated Harry's flick, succeeding in knocking the beating bat from Baddock's hand just before he was about to send a Bludger at Katie Bell. The Bludger instead sailed past him, catching a very surprised Draco Malfoy in the stomach and sending the Slytherin Seeker off his broom and into the crowd of Slytherin supporters who, fortunately for him, were only a few feet below.

And there, suddenly, was the Snitch.

It hovered tantalisingly a few feet away from Harry, and then took off across the pitch. With Malfoy nowhere to be seen, the outcome was never in doubt. Harry chased the Snitch across the width of the pitch, seizing it in front of the roaring Gryffindor supporters, almost exactly where he had been a few minutes earlier.

And, once again, the importance of the match fell away behind him as his gaze met Ginny Weasley's.

*

The Gryffindor common room was a riot that evening. Ron sat quietly on one side of the room, watching Ginny, Hermione and the three Chasers form the eye of the hurricane of wild behaviour that swept through the common room.

"What d'you reckon they're talking about?"

"Dunno," Harry said. "Are you okay?"

"I am now," Ron said, glaring at Harry before breaking into a grin. "I still don't think that was in the Quidditch Captain's handbook Oliver was always reading."

"I'll have to send an owl to the publishers," Harry replied. He glanced over at the five girls, uncomfortably aware that it was the same group who had been together when Fred and George had upset Ginny at the Leaky Cauldron. This time, however, Ginny looked. . . okay. Not as overjoyed as her brothers, but she was laughing, despite the serious look on her face. 

He became aware that Hermione was looking at Ron and him with an intent look on her face. He was just about to point this out to Ron when Dean, Seamus and Neville swooped down on their victorious roommates. As they were borne away, Harry looked back at the girls, and saw them making their way through the wild party, towards the girls' dormitory stairs.

__

It's nothing to worry about. Probably.

Maybe, anyway.


	11. Chapter Eleven: Dementors and Worse

**__**

Chapter Eleven: Dementors and Worse

The next morning, Ginny and Hermione talked quietly at one end of the table, and were gradually joined by Angelina, Katie, Alicia, and even Fleur.

". . .thick as one of Neville's thinning potions. A hint won't work. . ." Harry heard Katie whisper as he walked past. The girls stopped their huddled chat long enough to look at Harry walk past.

"I'm worried," Fred declared, as Harry sat down next to him. "Those girls are up to something. Any ideas, Harry?"

Harry shook his head. "Have they been like that all breakfast?"

"Yeah," Ron said. "Ginny and Hermione came down together, and then they've been calling all the others over. Dunno what they want with Fleur, though. Thought you said Hermione and her didn't get on."

"I didn't think they did," Harry said. Then Professor Dumbledore stood up, and the hall fell silent.

"Now, the big announcement I believe one or two of you have been waiting for," he said. "This New Years Eve, Hogwarts will host an International Wizarding Ball. I have decided to announce it now, in the belief that one or two amongst you may require a little time to prepare your outfits for the occasion."

Harry quietly laid his head down on the table, appalled at the thought of another evening of torture. Who would he end up going with this year? Pansy Parkinson? Rita Skeeter? Moaning Myrtle?

Ginny Weasley?

Harry sat bolt upright, his cheeks colouring as he thought: Why not? He could ask Ginny as a friend, couldn't he? Make it seem like he was trying to get Ron and Hermione together? In fact, the more Harry thought of the idea, the better it seemed.

"However, I will ask that names of those attending," Dumbledore continued. "Be submitted by Sunday week. This will allow you to visit Hogsmeade before finally committing yourself. I understand how horrendous it would be to come to the Ball and not have the most fashionable attire."

"That's what Fleur was talking about," Ron hissed at him. "That whole 'Maybe I weel say yesss' on Friday night."

"But you're not going to ask her, are you?" Harry whispered back. "I mean, you're going to ask Hermione."

"What? No! I couldn't?"

"Why not?"

"She'd say no!"

"You don't know that."

"You think she'd say yes? What's she been saying to you?"

"Nothing. But you want to go with her, don't you? And if you don't ask her, you'll be miserable, same as last year. Honestly, didn't you even talk to Ginny about this?"

"No. I, well… Oh, come on Harry! Besides, who're you going to ask? Cho?"

"What? No!" Harry said, surprised at the notion. "No, I couldn't go to the Ball with Cho, even if I wanted to."

"Who then?" Ron asked.

"I don't know. Maybe I won't go."

"Oh no, no way, Potter. If I'm going, and that's a big if, then you have to go as well."

*

At lunch a few days later, Harry was still thinking over what Ron had said. Even by his own standards, he'd been quiet during Charms that day, to the point of Hermione asking if he felt ill. He shrugged, and went back to taking notes on Anti-Embarrassment Charms, a subject he was suddenly very interested in.

He was looking over his notes when two of the Australian students came over and sat opposite him. He glanced up and smiled, and looked back down at his notes. But he couldn't concentrate. The feeling of their eyes burrowing into his head was getting on his nerves, so he looked up at them again.

"What?" he asked, a little more irritably then he'd intended. They grinned at him.

"G'day," one of them said. He offered Harry his hand, which Harry shook carefully. "Name's Nick. This here is Josh. We wanted to ask you something, mate."

"Er, okay," Harry said.

"We were wondering if you know that girl down there," Nick said, pointing to where Fleur, Hermione and Ginny sat together, their heads close together. "The French one, he means," Josh added.

"Er, well, yeah. Fleur was here last year. We were in the Tri Wizard tournament together. I guess she's a friend."

"You guess? Blimey, I'd want to be sure about something like that, mate. Nice looking girl like that, I'd keep an eye on her. Yeah, a girl like that, I'd want to be very certain where I stood. Listen, d'you know if she's seeing anyone right now?"

"Er. . . Not that I know of," Harry said, feeling a little stupid. "I haven't asked, to be honest."

"You what?" Nick said. "Good grief! What are you, a man or a mouse, mate?"

"Er. . ."

"Wait here," Josh said, jumping up.

"Hey! Get back here!" Nick called. "Unbelievable! He always does that. Always has to be the first one to chat up a pretty girl."

But Josh was already coming back, an easy smile on his face.

"Not interested," he said, sitting down and spearing a sausage on his fork. "Ah well."

"My turn?" Nick asked, standing and straightening his robes. "I tell you, next time, I'm going first. You always put girls off."

"I can't help it if I'm quicker off the mark, can I?" Josh said, grinning as his friend strolled nonchalantly over to the girls. In seconds, he was returning, a small smile on his lips. He too attacked the food on his plate with a vengeance. "Some you win. . ." he muttered indistinctly.

"Er, sorry, but how do you do that?" Harry asked.

"Do what, mate?" Josh said, staring gloomily at his plate. "What I wouldn't give for some real Aussie food. . ."

"Just ask girls out like that," Harry said, looking from one older wizard to the other. "I mean, don't you mind if they knock you back?"

The two Australians looked at each other, and then at Harry. They wore identical expressions, as though not sure that Harry was entirely there.

"Look," Josh said, kindly. "We're guys, they're girls, it's natural for us to fancy them. Only thing left to find out is if they fancy us. I mean, take Nick here. Long blonde hair, tall, not bad looking in a dark room-"

Nick interrupted with a suggestion that Josh spend some time doing something that would certainly have cost him house points and probably worse, were he a Hogwarts student. Despite the subject, it was said without a trace of rancour.

"Same to you," Josh said, easily. "Thing is, the only way to find out for sure if a girl likes you is to ask." He paused. "Well, not the only way," he added, with a grin. "But the best way to go when you're somewhere public."

Nick was looking at Harry shrewdly.

"Whoever she is, mate, just ask. What have you got to lose?"

*

It was all very well for Nick to say that, but it seemed as though Harry never got a moment alone with Ginny from that point onwards. When they weren't in class, they were surrounded. In the corridors, in the Great Hall, even in the Patronus classes, where Neville, Hermione and Dean had joined them. Ron wasn't having anymore luck.

It might have made the two of them happier to know that the objects of their desires were feeling similarly frustrated by the lack of privacy afforded them. Although Ginny had claimed that she was only going to be Harry's friend, she knew she was kidding herself. And when Hermione finally admitted, to herself and everyone else, that she liked Ron as more than a friend, Ginny decided to have another go at getting Harry to notice her.

Neither girl, however, was able to help the other too much. Hermione felt bound by the promises she made to Ginny and Harry, and couldn't bring herself to reveal the nature of the conversations she had had with them. She knew Harry could be incredibly stubborn at times, and might well spurn Ginny if he found out that Hermione had shared his secrets behind his back.

Ginny, meanwhile, knew full well that Ron liked Hermione as much as she did him, but was similarly bound by her sisterly obligations. If Ron suspected that Ginny and Hermione had been talking about him behind his back –no matter how pleasing the subject- he would have been furious.

All in all, as the Hogsmeade weekend approached, it was little wonder that four minds spent the Friday night thinking "Tomorrow. I have to do it tomorrow."

*

Harry and Ron dressed slowly, taking especial care to make sure that their appearances were just so. Harry even tried to smooth his wild hair, which made Ron laugh.

"You've got no chance there mate," he said. Harry grinned, and headed for the common room while Ron brushed his own hair for the umpteenth time. There he found Fleur sitting alone, something unique in Harry's experience.

"It ees part of being a Veela," she said, when he commented on it. She looked over her steepled fingers at him. "Now, 'Arry, I want you to know that I was going to ask you to the New Year Ball this year," she said. Forestalling his reply, she carried on. "But it does not take a genius to see that you want someone else, nor 'oo that someone else is. 'Er brother may not know yet, but zat is neither 'ere nor there. No, I wanted to say 'good luck' 'Arry. I think you will make a wonderful couple."

Ron came down the stairs, but Harry barely noticed. Had he been that obvious? He watched Fleur walk over to Ron, and murmur to him for a few minutes, then she disappeared up to her dormitory, returning with her heavy overcoat, and accompanied by Hermione and Ginny.

"So, are we ready to go?" Fleur asked brightly, linking arms with Hermione. She grabbed Ginny's arm on the way past, and Harry and Ron trailed behind the trio as they made their way toward Hogsmeade.

*

Fleur chattered brightly throughout the trip, and soon all five friends were talking merrily between themselves. Harry noticed the envious glances thrown at the group by several male students from Hogwarts, and even some of the international students.

As they reached the edge of Hogsmeade, Fleur waved brightly at several of the other Beauxbatons students, and pulled away from the others.

"'Ere I leave you," she laughed. "I will see you later, yes?" She waved as she hurried over to the other Beauxbatons students, and they were soon lost among the crowds thronging Hogsmeade High Street.

"What shall we do first?" Hermione asked, brightly. "I'd like to get some new robes for the Ball."

"Are you going with someone?" Harry asked, surprised.

"No, well, I mean, not yet," Hermione said with a sideways glance at Ron. "But even if no-one asks, it would be nice to go. So, I need some new robes, because I left my robes from last year at home."

"Well, you and Ron go do that," Harry said, kicking Ron in the ankle. "Ginny, would you like to come with me?" 

Ginny jumped. "S-sorry?" she said?

"I have to get some supplies for school. I was hoping you'd keep me company," Harry said.

"Sure," Ginny said, looking slightly pink. _Am I blushing too much? I can't believe it! It sounded for a second like he was asking me to the Ball._

"Good. We'll see you at… Two? In the pub?" Harry said to Ron and Hermione. "We should have everything done by then," he said, staring at Ron, who shrugged irritably.

"Yeah, sure," Ron replied, avoiding Harry's stare. "See you there."

The two pairs split off in opposite directions. Harry and Ginny began walking toward the shopping area. They spent an enjoyable few hours searching through Zonko's joke shop and Honeyduke's sweet shop and then went on to the post office, Harry's school supplies long since forgotten. None of it, however, got either of them much closer to asking the other one to the New Year's Ball.

Harry looked at his watch, and realised it was a quarter to two. He sighed. Now or never, then. Reaching out, he grabbed Ginny's hand, spilling sweets all over the street. She looked at him in puzzlement.

"Harry?" she said. "What's wrong?" _Harry Potter's holding your hand and you ask what's wrong? Good Lord above!_

"Ginny, I think you're great, you know that right? You're funny, and lively, and I have a great time when I'm with you, and you're a really good friend."

"Well, that's really nice of you to say so, Harry. I like you too. A lot."

"Good. D'you want to go to the ball with me?"

__

I actually asked her! OK, keep calm, she hasn't started laughing yet. . .

He actually asked me! OK, stay calm, you haven't started blushing yet. . .

"OK," she said, with a smile. "I'd like that."

And then the screaming started.

*

Ron and Hermione looked at robes for a long time, but Hermione had kept on stalling. "I need someone to go with," she said. "I don't want to buy expensive robes, if I'm not going to be going with anyone."

Ron nodded. "Yeah, that's sensible," he said, a little preoccupied.

Hermione looked at him in frustration, then the two of them walked out of the shop. They went into Zonko's, where Fred and George were showing off their latest invention to the owners. Ron bought a new deck of exploding cards, and they walked back outside. Ron glanced up at the clock over the post office. It was ten minutes to two. He swore, making Hermione look at him

"Ron!" she said. "Watch your language!"

"Hermione, look, we're friends, right?"

"Of course, Ron."

"Can you promise me something? Just promise me? Say you won't laugh at what I'm about to say?"

"Well, okay, I promise not to laugh."

"Good. Hermione, will you-"

Hermione screamed.

*

The Dementors attacked en masse, sweeping suddenly through the town like mist, the cold wave of terror they inspired scattering all those before them. Many fell to the ground, trapped by the fear born in them by the Dementors' magic. Others ran, desperately seeking any safe haven.

Harry stood firm, waiting for the right moment to come. He realised that Ginny was still beside him.

"You don't have to stay," he said.

"I do," she said, through gritted teeth. "I have to see if you're as good a teacher as you think you are."

Impulsively, he reached out and hugged her. "You'll be amazing, remember?" he said.

As he said it, a woman beside him whipped back her cloak and drew her wand. Harry just had time to recognise the seal of the Ministry of Magic on her arm before her wand spat forth a Patronus. The huge silver cat-shape sprang agilely forward, charging toward a group of Dementors who were terrorising a cluster of witches trying desperately to shield their children. A unicorn and a shining wolf joined the big cat, and the three Patroni scattered the group of Dementors before them. Harry risked a glance around, and saw another wizard shedding an ostentatious cloak, which had masked the Ministry seal pinned to his chest.

__

They're Aurors, Harry realised.

Harry spun on one foot and pointed his wand. "_Expecto Patronum!_" he cried. The thought that came to his mind as his happiest memory was no surprise to him. He was thinking of Ginny, and the good times they had had over the last several months. Most specifically, he was thinking of how he had felt moments before the Dementor attack, when she had said she would go to the Ball with him.

The stag erupted from his wand, charging down Dementors. Behind him, Ginny was trying to cast her own Patronus. A part of him wondered what form hers took. During the classes, with no Dementor to focus the mind, hers had been a faint silvery mist, like his own early attempts. But he couldn't take the time to look.

"Keep it up, lad," he heard a woman shouting. "And you lass." Then a gigantic shape glided gracefully through the air, swooping over Harry's head, and diving at the Dementors.

"Come back this way!" the voice cried. Harry risked a look to see Madam Rosmerta standing at the doorway of the pub, her own wand out and pointing at the Dementors. She had cast her own Patronus, which Harry could see now was a huge, silvery eagle. It swooped again, and flew at full speed into a particularly menacing Dementor, weaving and swooping back and forth, confusing the giant creature.

"_Expecto Patronum!_" Madam Rosmerta yelled again, her wand issuing another giant bird that dipped immediately into the attack.

Harry and Ginny dashed for the relative safety of the pub, diving past Rosmerta into the smoky warmth beyond. Harry immediately dashed for a window, and tried to follow the battle. The handful of undercover Ministry witches and wizards were casting their own Patroni in company with those few Hogwarts students who had mastered the spell. Harry suddenly saw a Dementor approaching on a crowd of second years, and slammed the window open, already casting the spell without conscious thought. The stag burst into life, galloping across the street and in front of the Dementor, guarding the younger students, almost daring the Dementor to try an attack.

Slowly, the Dementors began to pull back. Harry wondered if whoever had ordered the attack had considered the possibility of so many wizards with their own Patronus ready to cast. One Dementor made a last swoop, and Harry heard a shrill scream, abruptly cut off. A huge silver shape erupted outwards, accompanied by a loud bellow that echoed around the shocked streets. Harry realised that the silvery shape was a knight on horseback, and he swallowed with difficulty. He recognised the Patronus as being Ron's.

Diving once more past Rosmerta, he wrenched the door open, and dashed out into the street. Hurrying through the shell shocked, terrified crowd, he sprinted to where the Patronus was patiently pawing the ground, standing by its conjuror. As Harry rounded the corner, he stopped cold.

Hermione was lying on the floor, her skin a ghostly white. Ron was cradling her head in his lap, silent tears streaming down his face. He looked up as Harry approached, and Harry felt his own tears welling up. Dropping to his knees, he took Hermione's hand in his, and was relieved to feel the pulse in her wrist.

"She's alive," he whispered. Ron's eyes were fixed on Hermione's still face.

"They got her," he said. "She couldn't fight them, just sat there trembling. I couldn't hold them off."

"Mr Weasley, let her go," a voice said from behind them. Harry turned to see Professor Dumbledore standing behind them, his expression grave. "Mr Weasley, we will take her back to Hogwarts. Come now, Ron," he added, crouching stiffly beside the three of them. 

Slowly, Ron stood and Dumbledore conjured a stretcher to allow Ron and one of the villagers to begin taking Hermione up to Hogwarts. Harry went to follow them, but Dumbledore laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Leave them for now, Harry," he said. "I think Mr Weasley needs a little time alone. You will see them both soon enough."

"Hermione will be okay, won't she?" Harry asked.

"Oh yes," Dumbledore said. "The Dementors are only fatal in their attack if allowed to perform their final kiss. No-one here has suffered that fate."

"Professor, what if they attack again?"

"Yes, that is why I wished to speak with you, Harry. I would like you to expand your personal tuition of the students, if you are prepared to. Any age, any house. We shall also expand the tuition of hexes and charms, especially the Patronus charm, to all years. While it is advanced magic, there may be some students with a natural gift for it. Certainly there can be no harm in trying. Your help would be invaluable."

"Of course, Professor," Harry said. He smiled, slightly. "I said before I came here this year that I wanted to be the role model people expect me to be. The Boy Who Lived, fighting the fight against Voldemort. Showing others that they can live their lives even with bad times maybe around the corner. I guess now I get to show I meant it."

"Your parents would have been very proud of you, Harry," Dumbledore replied, somberly. "I only wish that this new maturity hadn't been forced upon you. I have said before that you have proved yourself equal to the burden of a fully-grown adult. Well, now I can see that there is more to you than even I had suspected. Mr Ollivander was right, these five years past. I think we can expect very great things of you, Harry."


	12. Chapter Twelve: Ron’s Triumph

**__**

Chapter Twelve: Ron's Triumph

Harry left the medical wing later that evening, having sat with Ron until he had been reluctantly shooed away by Madam Pomfrey. Ron was staying. He had made it perfectly clear that even a direct order from Professor Dumbledore wouldn't move him. Harry had wanted to stay, and had even extended his stay by half-an-hour past visiting time, but had eventually decided he was needed elsewhere. Looking back at Ron as he left, he knew that Hermione couldn't be better looked after. He made his way up to the Owlery, and sent Hedwig off to Remus and Sirius with a full account of the day, even mentioning the arrangements for the Ball, in case they might be interested.

As he climbed through the portrait hole, he was met by a very grim common room. Everyone was sitting quietly, conversing in whispers or not at all. Harry went quietly up to Fred and George's dormitory, and picked up a box of Filibuster's fireworks. Coming back down stairs, he took a deep, steadying breath and threw one of the rockets up into the air and pointed his wand at it, muttering an ignition charm just as it reached the top of its arc.

The explosion made everyone jump and stare in amazement at Harry. Fred and George in particular looked astonished as Harry grinned. He took more of the fireworks out of the box, and passed them around, before walking over to the fireplace.

"We won," he said, loudly. "No-one is hurt too much. We beat the worst that Voldemort can throw at us short of coming here himself. Madam Pomfrey says that everyone will be fine, though Hermione might be in the hospital wing for a few days. That's okay, she's been there before. Remind me to tell you about our experiment with Polyjuice potion sometime. Now, Parvati," he said, looking down at her. "Who're you going to the Ball with this year?"

"Er… Dean," she replied.

"Great, that's wonderful. You'll make a fantastic pair. I expect to see you on the dance floor, alright? Neville," he called out. "You'll be at the ball, I hope?"

Neville nodded hesitantly, looking at Harry open-mouthed.

"Wonderful. Everyone who isn't going because they haven't got a partner, forget it. Ask someone. Now. You have ten minutes."

Harry walked over and sat down beside Ginny, who was looking at him as though he'd gone mad.

"Harry, what-"

"Shh," he said. "One of my resolutions." He smiled. "So, will you go to the Ball with me?"

"Er, of course. I said yes earlier," she replied, now thoroughly confused.

"I know, but I wanted to make sure. Plus it makes it look as though I'm asking you for the first time. It encourages people. It'll probably even encourage Fred and George to come and thump me for asking you. And at times like this, we need Fred and George back on form," he added, grinning at her. She smiled.

"All these years, and I never knew," she said.

"Knew what?"

"That you're crazy. It must have been all those times you've fallen off your broomstick."

"I never fall off my broomstick," Harry said, indignantly.

"You reckon, Potter?" Fred said, sitting down in front of them.

"Every practise we've been to, you struggle to say on. Half the time you get the Snitch, it's 'cause you caught it on the way down," George added.

"And now you look like you're asking our sister out," Fred noted. "I think you're right, Gin. He is crazy."

Harry grinned, and stood up. "If I was going to ask Ginny out, do you think I'd do anything in front of you two?"

"Maybe he's not so crazy," George said to his siblings.

"We'll have to see," Harry replied, standing and waving his hands. "Now, has everyone got someone?" he called. "Now, lets take these fireworks, and celebrate."

"Celebrate what?" Seamus called out.

"Celebrate being here, alive, in good company, not being in Slytherin, all that sort of thing," Harry replied. With that, he pulled a firework from the box, and lit the end, sending it streaking up at the ceiling, where it exploded in bright red and gold stars.

*

Outside the common room, Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore stood listening silently. They had been touring the houses, talking about the events of the day. At Gryffindor tower, they decided, it wasn't necessary.

"Just like his father," Professor McGonagall said, her voice cracking slightly.

"He is a fine young man," Dumbledore agreed. "A shining light, which is what the world needs now."

"A lot to ask of one young man," Professor McGonagall replied. "I worry, Albus. I know Harry is becoming more mature and, as you say, more and more like his father, but it's a great deal to ask."

"He has a lot of support," Dumbledore said, smiling. "And the amazing thing," he added, his eyes crinkling as the smile widened, "is that he is doing it all by himself. No prompting from anyone. Maybe he has been paying attention in some of our classes."

*

Ron spent the next three weeks pacing the floor of the hospital wing. One by one, the other patients had recovered from the Dementor attack, and had left. Only Hermione remained, more than a week after the last of the others had left.

"Come on, Hermione," he whispered, over and over.

"She'll wake when she's ready, Professor Dumbledore says," Harry said, sitting on the edge of the bed. Ron had eventually been given full permission to stay in the hospital wing rather than attend classes, and Harry had brought him his work again.

"Every time she moves, every time she makes a noise. . ." Ron trailed off. "It's not fair, Harry."

"It's not, Ron. It's not fair that Hermione should get caught between Voldemort and me. It's not fair that the one spell in the world that Hermione can't do is the one that she needed most of all. It's not fair that you're stuck in here when you should be outside preparing for the Ball and wondering if your robes will clash with Hermione's or not."

Ron stooped pacing. "I heard about what you did in the common room," he said, quietly. Harry looked at him nervously.

"I wasn't trying to make fun of Hermione or anything-"

"I know," Ron said. "I think you did the right thing. People will beat themselves up over stuff like this."

"Yeah, even you," Harry said.

"I couldn't hold them all off," Ron said, sinking into his chair. "If I'd been faster, or stronger. . ."

"Ron, I had Ginny and Madam Rosmerta helping. Even with them, we were still really lucky that there were a few undercover Aurors there in case of more 'fragmented activity by You-Know-Who's former followers'. They were incredible, but you did it all on your own, and protecting Hermione the whole time. That's beyond incredible. I don't know how you cast that Patronus. I think I'd have been beaten."

Ron shrugged.

"Me either. I don't think I could've done, normally. I mean, I know I've been able to do it in class the last few weeks, but that was a full scale fight. I think it was only because I knew I had to protect Hermione." Ron sighed. "How do you do it, Harry? How do you keep on, keep positive? You have to deal with this, all the time. And now you're here, trying to cheer me up." 

"It's just the right thing to do," Harry said, a little embarrassed. "I just think what my Dad would have done. I think about what Cedric would have done, too," he added, sombrely. "What would your Dad do?"

"If my mum was hurt? He'd be worried as anything, but he'd get through."

"So will you," Harry said, as he got up to leave.

*

The next day, Harry received a letter from Remus and Sirius. He sat alone in his dormitory while he read over what the two old friends had to say.

__

Harry,

We want you to keep working on your spells. Sounds like the Patronus Charm came in useful again –and Moony is grinning like an idiot while I write this- but you can't always rely on it being Dementors you face. You're getting old enough now to try some of the more advanced spells. Impedimenta and Expelliarmus won't cut it against Death Eaters too often. Try to get Dumbledore to teach some of the N.E.W.T. level spells to your year. Probably the best defence is to have friends with you wherever you go. You say Ginny Weasley did well keeping your back in Hogsmeade, so it sounds like that family's doing okay for itself. 

By the way, did you ask her to the ball before or after the fight? There's money riding on this, Harry, so let us know. Oh, and I'm sure we don't need to tell you to treat her right. Not with three brothers there to keep an eye on you.

Even so, have fun. It's amazing how persistent love can be in the face of adversity. 

Hope Hermione is feeling better. If ever there was proof that Muggle-borns can make great wizards, she's it. Her and your mum, anyway. . .

Keep in touch. We might not be able to reply immediately, but it's nice to know life goes on.

Mooney & Padfoot

P.S. What is it about Potters and redheads?

*

"Ron." Ron awoke, shaking his head muzzily as he looked about the hospital wing. Something had changed.

He looked at Hermione's bed, and was shocked to see her smiling weakly at him.

"'Mione!" he blurted. "Madam Pomfrey! She's awake!"

He jumped out of bed, and was beside Hermione in a heartbeat. He took her hand in his, and grinned down at her, completely lost for words.

"How long have I been here?" Hermione asked, as Madam Pomfrey checked her over.

"Almost four weeks. It's two days before Christmas," he replied.

"Oh no," she said, looking close to tears. "I must have missed so much!"

"Nothing, really. I reckon I've about caught up to you in Charms though." He squeezed her hand. "Come on, Hermione, you're here, you're alive, don't worry about anything else." He looked at Madam Pomfrey, who took the hint and wandered off to update Hermione's chart.

"Hermione. . ." Ron took a deep breath. "When the Dementors attacked, the worst thing I could think of was at the end of the second year, with you in here, and Ginny in the Chamber of Secrets. Then, when you got hurt, I was living my worst fear. I was so scared you were. . . During the second year, I always hoped, even when things really went wrong and there was that mess with that prat Lockhart. But this time. . . The thought that I'd failed you, that it was my fault. . ."

Hermione squeezed his hand. Ron let out a great, shuddering breath.

"Anyway," he went on, his voice under tight control. "What I wanted to say was: Will you go to the Ball with me?"

"Ron. . ." Hermione was genuinely surprised. "I, I can't. I mean. . ." she gestured with her free hand at the ward.

"Madam Pomfrey says it's okay," Ron said. "Provided I don't tire you out too much."

"But, I mean, I don't have robes, or anything. . ."

"Don't worry about that. Just answer me, yes or no."

"Yes."

*

A few days after Christmas, Ron left the hospital wing for the first time in nearly four weeks. Collecting Ginny and Katie Bell, he went to Hogsmeade and spent a great deal of time in the robe shop. Katie, it transpired, was the same size as Hermione, and Ron and Ginny finally agreed on a set of robes, which they rushed up to Hogwarts.

New Year's Eve dawned bright and clear, the snow on the ground becoming quite dazzling as the sun glinted off of it. A sumptuous breakfast was laid out, and virtually the whole school had stayed for the holidays, even some of the lower years who couldn't go to the Ball, but were still keen to enjoy the Hogwarts holiday atmosphere.

A lazy day followed. And Ron and Harry sat nervously by the common room fire, their stomachs churning as they played game after game of wizard chess. Eventually, Ginny, Katie, Angelina and Alicia left the boys and went to get ready, all their things having been placed in the hospital wing so they could help Hermione.

Harry grinned at George. "You know, if things work out with you and Alicia, and Neville and Daniella, you two'll be brothers-in-law."

"Yeah, I know," said George. "Of course, if things work out between you and Ginny, we'll be brothers-in-law too."

"Nothing's going on between me and Ginny," Harry said, calmly. "We're friends."

"Who're going to the Ball together," Fred added.

"So're Katie and Lee Jordan," Harry replied.

"Who got together back around Hallowe'en time," George grinned. "Keep up, Harry."

Ron was watching all this in bewilderment. "You're taking Ginny to the ball? Why?"

"Because I like her!" Harry snapped. "Look, I like Ginny," he repeated, a lot calmer. "A lot, really I do. But she's my friend. That's all. I asked her because I knew we'd have fun together."

"Watch it, Potter," Fred said, with a mock scowl. "I don't want to think about any man having fun with our little sister. He'd have a lot to answer for."

*

Eventually, the boys went to get ready too. Harry and Ron grinned at one another nervously, their dress robes much fancier then the previous year's. Ron was now bedecked in dark red robes, Harry in black. They brushed their hair silently, unable to speak for nerves. Looking at one another one last time, they walked down the stairs to find Fred, George and Lee all waiting, each tugging nervously at their robes. In contrast to their brother, Fred and George wore identical bright scarlet robes while Lee wore a deep navy blue. The five exchanged nervous grins, and set off for the hospital wing.

The site that greeted them simply took their breath away. Katie was wearing robes of bright sunshine yellow, Angelina was in a fetching pink, Alicia in a deep chocolatey brown which perfectly matched her eyes. But Harry barely registered these, for Ginny was simply glowing in simple robes of the purest white. Ron, meanwhile, looked at no-one but Hermione, who sat in a wheelchair, wearing robes of palest blue. Ron walked forward, and knelt next to the chair.

"Hermione, you look amazing," he said, taking her hand in his. Hermione, for her part, looked to be on the verge of tears, she was so happy.

"I'm sorry I can't dance, but Madam Pomfrey said-"

"Shhh, don't worry about it," Ron said. "I have a little trick up my sleeve to take care of that."

"What?" Hermione asked, her natural inquisitiveness taking over.

"You'll see," Ron said, standing up and grasping the handles of the chair. "Everyone ready to go?" he asked.

Harry extended his arm to Ginny, who took it nervously.

"You look incredible," he said. She grinned with sheer relief.

The group of friends made their way down to the Great Hall, where people were already gathered. The Hall quickly filled, and everyone took their seats. For the evening, the house tables had been abandoned, allowing everyone to sit with their partner, regardless of allegiance. Harry waved to Fleur, who was accompanied by a Hufflepuff sixth year. She waved back happily, and exchanged a huge smile with Ginny.

The meal was, if anything, even more sumptuous than that served up at Hallowe'en. No one seemed to eat much, they were far too busy staring happily at their partners. Finally, the last plate was cleared and Celestina Warbeck (The Singing Sorceress) stood to a huge round of applause.

"Thank you," she said. "I have been instructed to invite the house Quidditch captains to come forward with their partners for this first dance."

Spotlights suddenly shone out, picking Harry and Ginny, Fleur and Hufflepuff's Justin Finch Fletchley, Cho Chang and Ravenclaw's Roger Davies, and Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson.

Fleur positively glided onto the floor. Her long robes of palest pink trailing elegantly behind her as she took her position. Cho looked a little red-eyed, but waved at Harry and Ginny as they took their place. Malfoy scowled at Harry as he and Pansy took up their own position.

"Everyone ready?" Celestina asked.

"No!" Ron yelled. "One minute."

Another spotlight lanced down from the ceiling, illuminating Ron and Hermione, who was looking as though she had frozen again. Slowly, she shook her head, and Malfoy laughed nastily. Then, Ron pulled out his wand.

"_Wingardium Levitaté_," he said, his voice clear in the silent Hall. Hermione's eyes widened as she rose slowly from her wheelchair. "_Insiste Incantatem_." Ron waved his wand again, and Hermione hung in mid air, her head level with Ron's. Slipping one arm around her waist, he led her gently to the dance floor, where they took up position in the centre of the floor, ringed by the other four couples. Harry could see Hermione grinning ecstatically. Then the room began to fill with applause, beginning with Fred, George and the others, and then spreading all through the tables.


	13. Chapter Thirteen: An End, a Beginning, a...

**__**

Chapter Thirteen: An End, a Beginning, a Fumble Tongued Continuance

After the first dance, the captains were joined on the dance floor by the rest of their teams and then by the remaining students. Harry grinned as he saw Seamus and Lavender waltz past, celebrating both the New Year, and having been together for more than one year. He smiled down at Ginny.

"Thank you for coming with me," he said gently. She smiled at him happily.

"A chance to be on the arm of Harry Potter? How could I resist?" Harry smiled at the teasing expression on her face.

"There aren't many people I can trust as much as I can you, Ginny," he said. "Why did it take me so long to work that out?"

"Maybe the same reason people don't always see beyond what they expect you to be, Harry," she said quietly. "You had this image of me as Ron's little sister, the youngest Weasley, whatever. . . Am I right?"

"I tried not to think of you that way," Harry said. "But it was hard to get to know you when you turned pink whenever I opened my mouth."

"I'm doing better nowadays," she said, but still coloured a little. Harry grinned down at her, and she smiled back, laughing at herself. Harry's heart skipped a beat, and a shiver ran down his spine.

*

"I can't believe you managed the charm. It's really difficult," Hermione was saying as she danced, quite literally, on thin air.

"I had good incentive," Ron replied, enjoying the Ball immensely. With Hermione floating inches above the ground, he didn't have to worry about treading on her toes, and the two were gliding across the dance floor easily, making Draco and the lumbering Pansy Parkinson look particularly out of place.

Hermione looked up at the Great Hall's enchanted ceiling. "It's such a beautiful night," she said.

"Would you like to go outside?" Ron asked. "The spell doesn't just work in here."

"Isn't it a dreadful strain on you, keeping the spell going?" she asked, her voice laden with concern.

"Hermione, with your hand in mine, I feel like I'm the one walking on thin air, not you," Ron said, blushing as furiously as his sister ever had. Hermione giggled, which made him laugh as well.

"Where on earth did you get that line from?" she asked. "Not that it wasn't very nice," she added quickly.

"Er. . . Bill said he used it once," Ron said evasively. "I thought he might be easier to talk to than Fred or George about, well, you know. . ."

Hermione smiled, and Ron felt his stomach churn. "You've gone to a lot of trouble for tonight, haven't you?"

"Well, you're worth it," he said. "I haven't given you your Christmas present yet, either."

"I thought the robes were my present," she said.

"Not from me," Ron replied. "Harry and the rest of the team. Shall we go outside? I think I'll thump Fred if he makes one more face at us."

"Just when I was beginning to wonder what you'd done to my Ron," Hermione teased.

"Your Ron?" he replied, taking her hand and pulling her gently towards the doors to the grounds. "I could get used to hearing that. . ."

"I was right first time," Hermione said, babbling a little as she felt her stomach flip-flop inside her. "What have you done with him? Bring him back now?"

*

Harry and Ginny watched Ron and Hermione go as they swept across the dance floor. Deftly avoiding George and Alicia, they set course for the table, and sat happily. Harry slumped in his seat, a little red in the face from having been put through his paces by Ginny.

"I thought you were in good shape," she teased.

"Ginny, please, have mercy," he begged, with a laugh. "No-one ever taught me how to dance. I have to worry about stepping on your feet, about not falling over, about moving in time with the music. . . Is it any wonder I'm exhausted?"

"Maybe we could follow Ron and Hermione? That should wake you up again," she said.

"Watch my best friends snogging? No thanks," Harry laughed. Ginny grinned.

"Okay, then you think of something for us to do," she challenged.

"Well, we could go for a walk," Harry said. "Give your brothers something to worry about when they see us disappearing out to the rose garden."

"You don't want to see Ron and Hermione kissing, but you think going into the rose garden is a good idea?"

"Ahhh… Yeah, good point. Okay then, what about walking down to the lake? Do you reckon there'll be many couples down there?"

"Probably," Ginny grinned. "Anyone would think you're trying to find a romantic spot for us, Mr Potter."

Harry looked sideways at Ginny, trying to gauge her expression before replying.

"I wouldn't dream of it, Miss Weasley. I could just use a breath of fresh air. Besides, if I did try something on with you, can you imagine what your brothers would do?" 

__

That's good. Smooth. Keep it light. Don't let her know what you really think. You're here as friends, remember? Just friends.

Ginny looked at him across the table, and Harry felt a sensation akin to that felt when he was talking to Professor Dumbledore. He was prepared to swear that Ginny knew exactly what he was thinking, and for a second he thought he saw a trace of disappointment flash across her face. He opened his mouth to speak, suddenly eager to dispel the false notion, but was suddenly interrupted.

"All right, you two?" Hagrid grinned at them as he perched on one of the tables. "Saw Ron an' Hermione slopin' off together jus' now. Reckon they're about to get together. 'Bout time too, if yeh ask me."

He wandered off, and Harry looked back at Ginny, but the moment was gone. He sighed, and stood up.

__

I'm happy with things the way they are. And so is she. This is best for everyone. Just friends. Even as he thought it, Harry thought the words sounded hollow, but he was resolved. He had made the decision months before to get to know Ginny better, and friends was the way to go. She didn't want anything else.

"Shall we go for a walk?" he said, extending his arm. She took it, her usually bright manner somewhat subdued as they exited the Great Hall.

*

Ron guided Hermione across the lawn by the rose garden. They turned a deaf ear to the strange sounds coming from the bushes, and the occasional blast from a wand as Professor Snape treated himself to some belated Christmas presents.

"Ten points from Gryffindor!" "Ten points from Hufflepuff!" "_Detention_ and ten points from Ravenclaw!"

Hermione giggled when she heard Moaning Myrtle erupt from a bush, leading Snape to discover two Slytherin sixth years in a very delicate state. Snape's fury was unprecedented, the discovery coming as it did when Professor McGonagall had joined him on his rounds.

Ron and Hermione hurried away from the scene before bursting out laughing. They had reached the edge of the lake, this spot remarkably deserted despite the high number of trysts that the shadowy area undoubtedly concealed. Ron sat down on a fallen tree trunk, and gently guided Hermione down next to him. He reached into the pocket of his robes, and withdrew a small, pale blue gift, which Hermione realised was wrapped in the same cloth as her robes.

"I had them cut it especially," Ron said, smiling as she took it from him. She unwrapped it carefully, taking care not to rip the material as she undid the string. Opening the box inside, she took in a sharp breath. It was a silver necklace, simple and yet beautiful. Hanging from the chain was a grip in which lay a pale blue stone that gave off a glimmer of light, like a star.

"It's amazing," she whispered.

"It's a nova chameleon stone," Ron replied. "While you were off practising the Patronus charm with Harry and Ginny, I got Professor Flitwick to help me make it. It changes colour to match whatever you're wearing."

"So you never have to buy me jewellery ever again? Very clever, Mr Weasley," she teased.

"Well, y'know, all that effort saves me having to worry in the future. It's like asking you to the ball," he added, grinning. "I figured with you being in the hospital wing all that time, you wouldn't have found anyone else to go with."

He laughed, but the joke fell flat. Hermione let her hands fall to her side, and she stared out over the lake, all traces of good humour gone. The necklace dangled from her fingers, the chain snagged on a branch. The look on her face made Ron's blood run cold.

"Hermione, please, what'd I do?" he asked.

She sat there, and then reached into her small handbag, withdrawing the wand that was so familiar to her, and yet this year had let her down so badly.

"_Expecto Patronum_," she whispered hoarsely, brandishing the wand at the lake. Nothing happened. The tip of Hermione's wand remained dark, if anything it became darker to match the mood of its owner.

"Hermione, please," Ron repeated. Staring out over the dark water, she sighed.

"Ron, do you know why I can't fight the Dementors?"

"No, I don't," he said. He avoided speculating, or offering trite reassurances. He suspected that Hermione, the most intelligent person he knew, wouldn't appreciate either.

"When I see a Dementor, all I feel is lonely," she said. "It's so. . . so silly. Harry and Ginny see really terrible things. I feel like I did that day when I heard you say. . ." she tailed off, and Ron suddenly understood.

"You see Halloween in the first year," he said, slowly. He felt as though he were seeing a whole new side to Hermione. "I was so horrible to you that day, I made you feel like everything you had worked for was pointless."

"It's really stupid, I-" Hermione began, but stopped when Ron took her hands in his. Kneeling before her, he stared up into her tear-red eyes.

"Hermione, you don't need to worry," he said, his voice firm, although his eyes betrayed. . .

__

What are you so nervous about, Ron Weasley? Hermione thought. Out loud, she said, "Why not? I'm Muggle born, Ron. I'm going to be a target in the war, if there is one. I think sometimes that you and Harry only keep me around because I'm so smart."

"That's not true," he said, squeezing her hands. "I don't care how smart you are. You're a great person, don't think about yourself any other way. I won't let anything happen to you, ever, because I care about you way too much."

Then Ron leant forward, and pressed his lips gently against hers. For a second she froze. An irrational thought bubbled into her mind.

__

Nothing in any book ever prepared me for this.

Then she returned the kiss, swept away by the sweet gentleness of the touch, and the tidal wave of emotions that accompanied it.

*

Harry and Ginny walked through the rounds, chatting in a friendly manner which neither truly felt matched what they were feeling. As the rose garden and lake were very much out of the question, their ambling eventually brought them to the Quidditch stadium. They climbed one of the towers that surrounded the pitch and sank into the seats there, the artificial warmth given off by Ginny's wand keeping them comfortable in the cool night air.

"So, do you think Ron and Hermione are. . . Y'know," Ginny asked.

"I hope so," Harry said, with a grin. "He's been wanting to ask her out all term. Probably longer, knowing Ron. It'd be strange, though. My two best friends getting together."

"And seeing Ron with a girl," Ginny said, pulling a face. Harry laughed, and cupped his hands around the wand.

"Does that bother you?" he asked. She stared into space for a few seconds, obviously formulating her answer.

"Not. . . Not like I want him not to have someone," she said. "It's just, well, Ron and I did everything together before we came here. If him and Hermione do get together, I'll finally lose the last of my brothers."

They sat for a while, Harry thinking about what Ginny had said. Eventually, he looked up at her, and said; "You know, as you seem to be in the habit of losing brothers, I probably shouldn't say this, but if you ever need a brother, I'm always here for you."

She smiled. "I've known that for a long time," she said. "Since you saved me from Tom Riddle."

"You mum would have shouted at me if I didn't," he said, grinning. She laughed.

"It's nice being with you, Gin," he said. "I just feel so very much at ease. You're a great friend."

He leaned in closer to the wand, not seeing her smile fade a little.

__

Just friends, she thought. _Oh well._

*

They sat together for a long time, occasionally talking, mostly just enjoying one another's company. Eventually, dawn's bright fingers began to trace across the sky, and they climbed stiffly back down the tower stairs to the ground. 

They hurried across the damp grass, eager to get back inside the warmth of the school, and were fortunate enough to avoid running into any of the teachers as they dashed up the stairs to Gryffindor Tower.

They parted in the Common Room, pausing only to smile briefly at each other before carefully climbing the stairs to their separate dormitories. Harry slipped carefully through the door of his room, and made his way toward his bed.

"Harry?"

"Ron?"

"Are you just getting in?"

"Yeah. What are you still doing up?"

"I only just got in a few minutes ago. Er. . . Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you and Ginny. . . Er. . . You know?"

"What? No!"

"Oh. . . Okay. Alright then. Good. Well, 'night."

"'Night. Er. . . Ron?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you and Hermione. . . You know."

"Er. . . yeah. Yeah, we did."

"Oh. . . Good. That's good. Great, even."

"Yeah. Yeah, it is. It really is."

"Well, night then."

"Night."


	14. Chapter Fourteen: Rebirth

**__**

Chapter Fourteen: Rebirth

Harry couldn't help but feel a little isolated as term began again. He'd waved off the foreign students a few nights before, Nick and Josh winking at him suggestively as Fleur dispensed her usual two-cheek kisses. Since then, he'd had no-one really to hang around with, no-one to, well, to put it bluntly, to stop him being around Ron and Hermione when they were being a couple. 

He told himself he was being silly, that Ron and Hermione being together was a good thing, especially for them. But having his best friends spending all their time together, often to the exclusion of anyone else was extremely disconcerting. Worse, with all the homework being piled on by the teachers as the fifth year students prepared to take their O.W.Ls at the end of the year, Harry had been unable to find time to carry on his Patronus classes. When he'd broached the subject to Hermione, she'd smiled at him and told him not to worry.

"I was the only one who was really having trouble with it," she said. "And now I'm just so happy I don't care how many Dementors come after me. I know I can fight them off."

Which, coming from Hermione, was so saccharine sweet that Harry found himself staring after her in disbelief as she hurried off to find Ron.

He tried talking to Ginny, as well, but she wasn't worried either.

"I think I have the hang of it now, Harry," she said. "I mean, I did okay in Hogsmeade, didn't I?"

Harry was forced to admit that, yes, she had certainly done okay in Hogsmeade. She'd held back Dementors, and helped Madam Rosmerta tend the wounded in the Three Broomsticks when Harry had gone to check on Ron and Hermione.

All in all, Harry was beginning to understand exactly how Hermione had felt during their third year, and he wasn't sure why. 

__

I've got the same workload as anyone else, don't I? I take the same classes as Ron, and he doesn't seem this stressed.

Of course, Ron had Hermione. That probably helped. They were sitting beside him now, probably playing footsy under the table as they worked on their Transfiguration essay ("_40 ways to change your lover._" Harry had never thought Professor McGonagall had a sense of humour, and wasn't very impressed by it.)

Harry sat slumped in his chair, tapping the feather end of his quill on the parchment in front of him as he stared across the common room to where Ginny sat laughing with the other Quidditch players. As he watched, Lee Jordan came over, and wrapped his arms around Katie Bell. The three couples sat easily together, with Ginny the focus of the semi-circle they formed. As he watched and tapped, Ginny looked around at the trio of couples and laughed, tossing her head back and making her hair dance in the light given off by the fire. Harry heaved a great sigh and pulled a face, embarrassed and appalled at himself.

*

The next few weeks didn't get much better for Harry. He found himself actually fulfilling his Prefect duties, for the first time taking points from fellow students for minor rule infringements. At one point he found himself on the verge of taking points from Colin for taking a picture of his friends at breakfast time, and had to consciously restrain himself. Ron and Hermione, sitting beside him, didn't notice. They were too busy feeding one another toast.

At lunchtime, Fred and George came up to him and asked for some inside information on a book that they had running. Apparently the odds were 2-1 that Harry was hacked off about waiting three months between Quidditch matches, 5-2 that it was girl trouble, and 7-5 that he was worried about exams.

"Has to be Quidditch," Fred said, confidently. "I have to say, I'm starting to get twitchy myself. I mean, how long since you had a chance to get up on your Firebolt, Harry? Still, cheer up. Two matches in a week coming up!"

Harry stormed off without replying, but this only seemed to confirm Fred's opinion, and by the end of lunch, the twins were accepting no more bets on the Quidditch option.

That evening, Harry gave up on his homework in exasperation and offered to take Ron's patrol for him. He wandered through the school, saying hello to Nearly Headless Nick and the Fat Friar as they floated through a wall in front of him.

Turning a corner, he pulled up short. Standing in front of him, at the entrance to Dumbledore's office, was Hagrid. The Hogwarts gamekeeper fairly filled the corridor with his huge frame, but Harry knew that his friend was one of the gentlest souls around. As if to prove it, Hagrid paused in the act of giving the password, and turned to look back down the corridor.

"Oh, hullo Harry," he said, smiling wearily in the gloom. "Jus' off to see Professor Dumbledore. Been spending a bit o' time with Olympe, an' I figured he'd want ter know the latest news from the giants."

Harry nodded, his suspicion that Hagrid and the Beauxbatons headmistress had been serving as equerries to the giants confirmed. Still, the two half-giants were yet another couple for Harry to feel uncomfortable around. He pulled a face in the darkness, unsure of whether to laugh or scowl.

"Course, I probably shouldn' have tol' you that," Hagrid went on. "But I reckon the Professor won' mind. Doesn't look like it came as much of a surprise to you, anyway. Always said you was a smart lad. Want ter come see the Professor?"

Harry found himself nodding. Beyond the Dark Arts classes, he hadn't seen much of Professor Dumbledore this year, whereas previous years had lead him to the Headmasters office on what had felt like a regular basis. Maybe he could get Fawkes the phoenix to wash away the bad feeling that had settled in him over the last month or so.

"Cola bottles," Hagrid said. The gargoyle that protected the entrance to Dumbledore's office moved aside, and Hagrid and Harry mounted the moving staircase. At the top, Hagrid tapped respectfully on the door.

"Come," they heard from within. Hagrid opened the door, and the two walked in.

"Ah Hagrid, and Harry too. A fine way to end the day," Dumbledore greeted them. Harry was immediately cheered by the greeting, and smiled at his headmaster. Dumbledore waved them to seats in front of his desk, where they sat down and relaxed. Harry felt his mood improving, and smiled slightly. Fawkes the phoenix, who had been sitting on his perch behind Dumbledore's desk, hopped up in the air and glided down to land on the floor. He looked up at Harry, fixing him with a keen stare. Dumbledore chuckled.

"My, Fawkes has taken a liking to you, Harry. Maybe he thinks you need healing? And yet, I see no cuts, no scars, no obvious wounds. Don't tell me you've been hurt playing Quidditch again? Or is your scar hurting again?" he added, this last said in a very serious tone.

"No, it's not any of that," Harry said. "I'm sorry, Professor, Hagrid had something to tell you."

Hagrid shook his great head. "It can wait, Harry," he said, kindly. "What's up? Work getting' to yer?"

Harry too shook his head. "No, I don't think so. I just feel. . . Washed out."

"Well, that is not uncommon. I believe it's been several weeks since the last noisy party in Gryffindor Tower," Dumbledore said. "Perhaps another one would help?"

Harry smiled wanly. "I'm not really in much of a mood to celebrate anything, Professor. I don't think it's schoolwork. My marks are okay, well, except for Potions, but. . . I mean, even the other Gryffindors have noticed. I just seem to be in a bad mood all the time."

Hagrid and Professor Dumbledore exchanged looks, and Hagrid seemed to be smiling behind his beard.

"Well, Harry, it's not as though this was completely unexpected," Dumbledore said. "How long have you been feeling this way?"

"Well, since the foreign students left to go back home," Harry said slowly, thinking back.

"Ah, so, when the school emptied out and you began to notice that the Ball had had its usual side effect of creating a surge of tremendous well being among your fellow students," Dumbledore said. Harry looked at him curiously.

"Since everyone started snoggin', Harry," Hagrid said, by way of explanation.

Harry sat there, looking from one to the other.

"You think I'm jealous of Ron and Hermione and the others?" he said, not sure whether they were being serious or not. Dumbledore nodded slowly.

"I think it very possible, Harry," he said. "Why, I myself have noticed that Mister Weasley and Miss Granger seem to have found a way to spend even more time together than is surely humanly possible. And many of your other friends have also found comfort in this most trying of times."

"I don't…" Harry began. "I mean, I'm happy for them," he went on. "It's just. . ."

Hagrid nodded. "I remember one year young Charlie Weasley came down to my cabin, all annoyed 'cos his best friend started seeing a girl. 'Course, I think Charlie liked her a bit as well, so that may have 'ad summat to do with it," he said, shrewdly.

"Perhaps that is the problem," Dumbledore said. Hagrid nodded.

"Is that it, Harry? Did yer want to get together with Hermione?"

"What? No!" Harry said. "Me and Hermione? No!"

Hagrid chuckled. "No, I didn' think so," he said. "Doesn' take a genius to see her and Ron were made fer each other."

"Well then, Harry," Professor Dumbledore. "I'm afraid I'm not sure we can be much help. I myself have no great expertise in these areas, and it is a long time since I was your age in any case. Perhaps one of your other friends may be able to help? Miss Weasley, perhaps?"

At the mention of Ginny, Harry's head snapped up, and Hagrid chuckled again.

"Ah, I did wonder," he said. "I think we found the problem, Professor."

"Indeed so," Dumbledore replied, looking over the top of his glasses at Harry. "Curious, though hardly surprising. I believe I told you once that a great bond is established between two wizards when one saves another's life," he continued, but Harry cut him off.

"That's something I wanted to ask you, Professor," he said. "Does it work both ways? I mean," he swallowed hard, and tried to ignore the blush spreading across his cheeks. "I do like Ginny. Might that be why? And if she does like me, might it be the bond?"

Dumbledore thought about this for a time, and then twiddled his thumbs, looking up at the ceiling as he spoke.

"I think it is possible that the bond you share with Miss Weasley has allowed you to relate to one another," he said slowly. "You have both faced Voldemort, in whatever shape he took, and survived that. As for the bond that ties you to her, and her to you… I do not see it the way you do, Harry. As you know full well, Professor Snape holds no love for your father's memory. If Miss Weasley harbours any feelings towards you, there is no outside element acting upon her, at least," he added, looking now straight at Harry. "Not in the way you are worrying about.

"Now, I think you have a great deal to think about, as well as preparations for the upcoming Quidditch matches to make. As co-captain, I should hate to think you were neglecting your duties in order to wander the school corridors at night. You do have an example to set, after all."

"Yeah, I know," Harry said, standing up. He grinned as thought of the pool being run on his state of mind. "Seems a lot of people are keeping an eye on me."

*

Harry threw himself back into Quidditch preparation with renewed vigour. With matches against Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw on the Saturdays either side of Valentine's day, there was little time for Harry and Ron to prepare themselves and their team for what they had to face. Slytherin had been mauled badly by both teams as Malfoy had insisted on playing Crabbe and Goyle, despite , and the three sat jointly atop the house Quidditch table, with points difference meaning that Gryffindor needed to score heavily to make it back to the top of the table.

"It's up to you girls," Ron said. "No messing about when we got on the pitch. Nothing fancy. Just blitz them. Fred, George, you need to be at your finest. This isn't the paddock, this is serious."

George and Fred snapped off mirror image salutes as Ron walked up and down the line. Glaring balefully at them, he turned to look at Harry. "Do I need to say anything?"

"We went over this at breakfast," Harry said. "We need lots of points, just in case we lose one of the matches. But I still reckon the best way is to make sure I get the Snitch early on."

"We can't guarantee that," Ron said, returning to a pointless argument. "Cho Chang is on a Nimbus 2001 now. If she has enough of a head start on you, she could get the Snitch first. Maybe you should try and mark her out of the match?"

"We'll have to see how the match goes, Ron," Angelina said, stifling a yawn. "Can we go to bed now?"

"Need a hand?" Fred said, grinning devilishly as he slipped an arm around Angelina's waist. The group chuckled tiredly, and went off to bed. Separate ones, in all cases.

*

After his talk with Hagrid and Dumbledore, Harry had given up all pretence. He liked Ginny, and was going to ask her out. Soon. Very soon. As soon as he stopped tripping over his feet, or staring dumbly at her, or walking into things whenever she was around. The _just friends _mantra was best left in the past, but it _had_ succeeded in making him focus on something other than the fact that he was increasingly thinking of her as the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen.

He'd tried talking to Hermione about it, only for her to smile enigmatically at him and walk away. By the end of the week, Harry was left with the firm desire to kick something, and having to go to bed early –as soon as he'd finished his homework- didn't improve matters. Ginny had been sitting quietly in the corner, conveniently lacking any surrounding admirers, but as soon as Harry's quill had been put away, Ron had been dragging him towards their dormitory, shooting warning glances at the other five members of the team. As the door shut behind them, Harry finally broke free from Ron's grip, and glared at his friend in the moonlight shining through the window.

"What'd I do?" Ron asked, the pale lipstick from Hermione's goodnight kiss still evident on his cheek. Harry just glared even harder at him and went to bed.

*

Harry's spirits had definitely improved by the time Quidditch practise was over, however. Hermione and Ginny had dragged themselves out of bed to watch the team practise, and Harry felt certain that Hermione was trying to help him. Certainly by the end of the practise, Ginny was whooping and hollering as Harry, throwing himself fully into practise to distract himself from the vivid red hair visible even from so high up in the air, caught the Snitch five times in five minutes. Returning to the ground, the team couldn't help but grin. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff would be playing on the pitch in just over an hour, but whatever the result, the Gryffindors felt they could win the Quidditch Cup again.

"I have to say," said Fred, sniffing loudly while George pretended to blow his nose on Fred's robes, "that even Oliver never prepared us this well. To Ron and Harry," he said, raising his broomstick in the air. George's joined it, and then the Chasers' brooms all crossed over the heads of the captains as well.

"_Detonatus_," George said. The water balloons hidden in the twigs of the brooms burst, and Ron and Harry were drenched with several pints of freezing cold, slimy lake water.

"But that's for making us go to bed early every Friday night for the last three months," Fred continued, as the co-captains spluttered and gasped for breath.

*

Ravenclaw squeezed past Hufflepuff narrowly in a thrilling match, Cho Chang grabbing the Snitch when Ravenclaw trailed by 130 points, which meant that things were much more level on the points board. But Gryffindor still needed a handsome victory over one of their rivals. Surprisingly, Ron took it phlegmatically.

"We'll train twice more this week," he said to Harry. "We're really as good as we can be, and I don't want us pushing too hard."

Harry agreed. Neither of them had enjoyed the lake water shower, especially having to clean their robes afterwards. Harry had been particularly dismayed by Ginny having seen him dripping several pints of the foul water, pondweed dangling off the end of his nose.

He had returned to his previous role of tripping over non-existent things, walking into solid objects, and generally feeling like a complete fool whenever Ginny was around. Later that week, after a moderately paced practice, he thought he saw his chance when he was studying with Ron and Hermione. He saw Ginny getting up and heading toward the portrait hole, and decided that going for a walk with her would present the perfect opportunity. Just as he was heading toward the hole, however, he found himself waylaid by the twins.

"O Captain, my Captain," Fred hailed him. "Wait up, will you?"

"What? Oh, hullo Fred," Harry said, grimacing as the Fat Lady swung shut behind Ginny.

"Our captain doesn't sound very cheerful," George said, rolling a piece of parchment and tucking it inside his robes as he joined them. "Anyone would think he wasn't happy to be in our company."

__

Sorry guys, I wanted your sister, not you… No, I don't think that'll work, Harry thought. Instead, he schooled his features into one of mild interest, and focussed on the twins.

"What's up?" he asked.

"Well, after the rousing success of the Dementor's Ball in the greenhouse," Fred began.

"And seeing as it's Valentine's Day next week," George continued.

"Our favourite holiday, by the way," Fred chipped in.

"We wanted to see if you were up for helping with our new project," George finished.

Harry looked from one twin to the other, each sporting identical, mischief packed, grins. Despite himself, he was intrigued.

"Yeah, okay…" he said slowly. "What's the plan?"

"Well, it's a bit more ambitious this time," George began.

"And it's all to do with truth, beauty, freedom and, above all, love…" Fred continued.

*

Harry was initially appalled by the twins' suggestion, but after a few seconds, began to warm to the idea. The more he thought about it, the more he liked it. 

A few days later came Ginny's birthday, and the Gryffindors had celebrated in style, as Ginny was one of the most popular members of the house. Harry had even plucked up the courage to dance with her, before giving her her present. The magical hairgrip, which was enchanted to arrange the owners hair to their wishes, earned Harry a huge hug that left him somewhat speechless as she ran off to show Hermione and her other friends.

After a few minutes regaining his composure, he sought out the twins, turning a blind eye to Alicia's knowing wink as he pulled Fred and George away from their girlfriends.

"I'm in, okay?" he said, as Fred and George grinned. "But does it have to be so pink?"

"Absolutely," Fred replied. Harry grimaced, but agreed. The three put their heads together, and it was over an hour before Alicia and Angelina were able to break them up.


	15. Chapter Fifteen: Gryffindor vs Hufflepuf...

**__**

Chapter Fifteen: Gryffindor vs Hufflepuff

"Bell, Spinnet, Johnson, Weasley, Weasley, Weasley, and Potter! I give you… Gryffindor!!!"

Lee Jordan's amplified voice echoed over the Quidditch pitch as the team kicked off and up into the air. Harry circled slowly, watching for Madam Hooch to walk out into the middle of the pitch.

After a couple of crowd-pleasing laps from the team, the Quidditch teacher appeared, striding purposefully toward the kick off point. As the non-competing captains, Roger Davies and Malfoy were carrying the trunk with the Quidditch balls in it, a new idea of Madam Hooch's. Harry leant forward, forcing his Firebolt into a steep dive that he brought to a belated end bare inches from the ground. 

"Captains, shake hands!" With those words, Harry, Ron and Justin Finch-Fletchley smiled grimly at one another, their hands clenching briefly before they sped back up into the air. Harry passed the three Chasers on their way down, pleased to note they were maintaining a strict arrowhead formation that he knew would soon turn into an out-and-back as soon as one of them had the Quaffle.

The whistle blew, and the match was on.

"Bell with the Quaffle… Nice Bludger work from Abbot of Hufflepuff. Back to Spinnet… and onto Johnson. McMillan with a thunderous shot, and the Quaffle is loose! Great catch by Bones! And now Susan Bones streaking up the field! She ducks one Bludger, two, she shoots… That's a fantastic save! Ron Weasley with as good a save as you'll see this year."

"JORDAN! No favouritism."

"Sorry, Professor McGonagall… It's true though. And now Gryffindor are back in possession, and Potter dives forward to break up the concerted efforts being made by the Hufflepuff Beaters. Potter's really putting his Firebolt through its paces, although really he shouldn't interfere in such a way. However, it's all very exciting, and that's why we love the sport! Johnson now with the Quaffle, passes it on to Bell, back to Johnson, sorry, Abbott, but you'll have to be quicker than that. Johnson shoots! Goal Gryffindor! Ten-nil!"

The match raged back and forth for nearly an hour. Every time Gryffindor got near the goal, the ferocious Hufflepuff Beaters would put a Bludger right in their path. Harry had to admire their accuracy, if not the way they were stifling his team's attack. He could tell Ron was getting frustrated, and one shot he should have saved easily sailed right through his hands, giving Hufflepuff a 30-20 lead. Harry quickly signalled for time out.

"Where… the bloody… hell's the… Snitch?" Ron gasped, as he sank gratefully to the ground. Fred and George were bent double, George frantically trying to rub some feeling back into his shoulder where one of the Bludgers had hit him. Alicia was probing the area with her long, slim fingers, and George was grimacing.

"Can you play on?" Harry asked. George tried to lift his arm, but winced in pain. 

Alicia shook her head, "No way, Harry. No, George, listen to me for once."

"We'll have to sub you, George," Harry said, through gritted teeth. The Weasley twins' near telepathic understanding of one another had always been one of the team's strengths, and now they were going to lose that. He signalled to Madam Hooch.

"George's injured," he said. "We have to bring on a sub."

"Very well," she replied. "Your reserve Beater is ready, I suppose?"

"Yeah," Harry nodded. Ron had gone to fetch Seamus, who had been waiting on the sidelines since George had taken the hit. The two returned together, Seamus carrying his Nimbus 2000, which he'd bought second hand. Mounting up, he took George's club and smiled infectiously.

"Are we gonna show these eedjits how to play?" Ron grinned at his friend.

"Too bloody right. And if you want to knock one of those Bludgers at their Keeper, go ahead."

The team grinned at one another, and sped up into the air.

*

"And after nearly three hours, this match is finely poised. Hufflepuff leads Gryffindor by 80 points to 60, and so far, there's been no sign of the Snitch! Hufflepuff Seeker Finch-Fletchley did make a dive about forty minutes ago, but it turned out to be Professor Dumbledore's glasses he saw."

"JORDAN! I told you to stop mentioning it."

"It's human interest, Professor. Maybe he wanted to borrow- Oh! Potter has gone into a steep dive. I see the Snitch! It's speeding for the Hufflepuff end! Great Beater work by Finnigan there puts Bell through as Potter closes on the Snitch. Bell to Johnson, and Johnson scores as Potter scatters the Hufflepuff defence! Eighty to seventy now and Finch-Fletchley is trailing by a mile… Potter gets it! He's done it again! Gryffindor have beaten Hufflepuff, 220 points to 80! Next week's match will decide the Quidditch Cup!"

*

Celebrations in Gryffindor Tower went on for a long time, and the Gryffindor players were once more the toast of the common room. Seamus found himself being hoisted on the team's shoulders and raced around the room, having proven himself a more than capable replacement should either of the twins be injured again. George's return from the hospital wing got its own cheer, and he celebrated with a very bad attempt at a cartwheel which somehow landed him in Alicia's lap.

The party went on for several hours, and it was approaching midnight by the time it started to wind down. Harry was once more looking in Ginny's direction as the crowds around the team started to thin, but Fred and George once more pulled him toward them.

"About Tuesday," Fred said. "Still up for it?"

"Yeah," Harry said, suddenly struck by an idea. "Definitely," he said firmly. Looking around, he saw that Ginny was just on her way up to bed, and looked back with a frown. "I'm going to feel pretty stupid, but, yeah, definitely," he repeated.


	16. Chapter Sixteen: Veasleys’ Vigorous Vale...

**__**

Chapter Sixteen: Veasleys' Vigorous Valentines

Valentine's Day dawned bright and clear at Hogwarts. Harry found himself out of bed at half four in the morning, still mostly asleep as he helped Fred and George prepare their surprise for the whole school. They had enlisted Dean Thomas to prepare a special sign for the Great Hall doors that announced:

****

A Very Vigorous Valentines To You All

__

Messrs Weasley, Weasley and Potter beg your forbearance for the interruption of your daily routine. Normal service will be restored at precisely half past seven on this most love laden of all holidays. In the meantime, we suggest you early birds spend your time practising getting the worm.

Weasley, Weasley & Potter

Veasley's Vigorous Valentines

A subdivision of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes

Not surprisingly, a certain murmur of apprehension spread through the crowd that had gathered outside the Great Hall by half past seven. Professor Snape was muttering loudly about taking a hatful of points from Harry and the twins, but Professor Dumbledore merely read the sign, and stood there, his eyes twinkling behind his half moon spectacles.

At precisely half past seven, the sign folded itself neatly down from the size of a bed sheet to the size of a matchbox, and burst into miniature flames. As the last of the smoke disappeared, the doors swung open, and the front rank of students burst out laughing.

Standing in the centre of the doorway was Harry, dressed in robes very closely resembling those of former Hogwarts teacher Gilderoy Lockhart. The pale pink clashed horribly with Harry's green eyes, but went well with the colour of his cheeks. Shimmering red love hearts that moved across the material of the robes like images on a television screen raised the gaudiness factor of the outfit to unbearable levels.

"My dear friends," Harry began, struggling to match the unctuous timbre Lockhart had managed four years before. "Come in, come in, this is our Valentines Day surprise for you. At least, this is the beginning of it. Cupids," he cried, gesturing wildly.

From the rafters of the Great Hall, Fred and George plummeted downward on their broomsticks. Coming to a halt by Harry's side, the twins dismounted and stood bravely before the assembled throng. They were resplendent in Cupid's outfits; wings, halos, skimpy white tunics, long blonde hair and not a great deal else. Fred wielded a toy bow and arrow, George a magical harp, and each had a heavy looking bag, attached to their broomsticks, which was buzzing and vibrating. The twins looked at one another and struggled to keep a straight face as the crowd laughed helplessly. Even some of the staff were chuckling at the sight of the scantily clad Beaters.

"A big hand, my friends, for the Cupids," Harry said, gesturing extravagantly. The applause mingled with the laughter, and Harry felt himself calming down, pleased that the Weasley twins' appetite for attention was distracting from his own ridiculous outfit.

"Now, my Cupids will spend this mealtime spreading words of love throughout the school. Far be it for us to interfere with the normal running of school, however. Cupid Fred, please explain."

Fred stepped forward, and winked at Angelina, who had fought her way to the front of the crowd. He pulled the bag from his broomstick, and held it up so that everyone could see.

"Cupid's Kisses," he announced, as the bag shook in his hand. Behind him, George twanged tunelessly at his harp. "Normally two sickles a time, this Valentines Day Weasleys Wizard Wheezes are presenting them to you for free."

"The kisses will fly through the school," George said, stepping forward, "seeking out the object of your desire. Just hold them in your hand, think of who you like and what you would say to them, and the kiss will track them down. Then they simply have to pop them in their mouth to hear the message. Private and simple."

"And the best part of this?" Fred said. "They taste great! Why? Because they're enchanted to taste like a kiss from the person who sent them. And I know we all keep our teeth well brushed, don't we."

"A quick tip for all those not blessed with my perfect teeth," Harry said, in full Lockhart mode. "The Flossimax charm is what won me _Witch Weekly's_ Most-Charming-Smile award. Five times!"

"Oh, and before we all tuck into our specially prepared Valentine feast. . . One, two, three!"

"_EXPECTO DECORUM!_"

Pink light shot from the wands of the three friends, spreading throughout the Great Hall and into the corridor outside. Soon, the whole school was festooned with pink ribbons, love hearts, soft toys, and huge bunches of flowers. Harry and the twins grinned weakly at one another, the spell having taken a immense amount of effort, even with the preparations they'd made and the effort split three ways. Harry nodded, and the twins mounted their brooms, soaring up into the air as the crowd began to make their way to their tables.

"And, of course, Professor Lockhart will be trying out the first Cupid Kiss," George said, swooping low to hover in front of Harry. "Though we'd never advise a student to date a teacher, of course. . ."

He jiggled the bag in front of Harry, who looked back at him, dumbstruck. This hadn't been part of the plan, but he couldn't back out now, could he?

__

I'll get them for this. No, wait, what am I thinking? A joke war with Fred and George? I must have been stupid to agree to this in the first place. . .

Smiling icily at George, he tentatively reached into the bag, and pulled out one of the heart shaped sweets, which sat, glowing pink, in the palm of his hand. He closed his fingers around it, and thought of the redhead he could see giggling at the Gryffindor table.

__

Please be mine.

The sweet began to buzz violently in his hand, and he opened his fingers in surprise. It leapt triumphantly into the air, and sped out through the doors of the Great Hall into the school beyond. Harry heaved a huge sigh of relief. At least it hadn't gone straight to Ginny.

"Yes, well, it will make its way to her eventually," George announced loudly as a few people laughed at the hyperactive sweet. Harry left the twins to begin sharing out the Kisses as he sunk gratefully into a seat next to Hermione. Futilely, he pulled the Lockhart hat further down on his head to try and cover his embarrassment.

"I must say, that sweet reminded me of Pigwidgeon," Hermione said. "I don't suppose I have to ask who you sent it to?" Harry grunted a reply, and Hermione grinned. "Well, I suppose I'll have to be the one to talk to Ron, won't I? I imagine it will sound better coming from me than it will from you."

Harry groaned as he thought of Ron's reaction, and sank lower in his seat. Then he saw Snape pick a pink fluffy bunny up from his seat at the staff table, and shoot him a look of pure hatred. He groaned again and sank even lower.

*

Looking back on the day, Harry knew that the one comparatively sane thing that he'd done was to insist the Kisses not interrupt classes. He was spared the ordeal of the Kisses bursting on Double Potions, for example, although it didn't help matters. Snape had them brewing an Anti-Love potion, a concoction that reacted violently to the colour pink. Harry's cauldron exploded when he added the last ingredient, leaving Ron and Hermione temporarily unable to stand the sight of one another. Only some quick thinking by Lavender in brewing an antidote saved their relationship. Gryffindor lost twenty points for Harry's 'mistake', and another ten for Lavender's 'meddling'. Ron had stared daggers at Snape until the end of the lesson, but said nothing. It struck Harry that he hadn't heard Ron say much of anything about Snape for a long time now, and wondered if Hermione was having a calming influence on him.

A few particularly daring Kisses managed to reach their recipients during Care of Magical Creatures. "Shouldn't worry about it, Harry," Hagrid said when Harry tried to apologise. "Blowed if anyone was concentrating much, anyway. No, it's a good thing the three of yeh did today. Yer turning out alright, I reckon."

These words of praise cheered Harry up somewhat, and allowed him to make it through the day without too may thoughts of torturing or killing the Weasley twins. His bright pink robes, which along the way had started to show pictures of Lockhart's smiling face, made him stand out among the black clad hordes. Far too many people had asked after the recipient of his sweet, and even Ron had asked him a couple of times. Harry suspected he knew full well who it had gone to.

Hermione and Ron had sent each other sweets. Hermione was beaming more than ever, and Harry suspected from the brightness of her eyes that she was just holding back tears of joy. She whispered to him that Ron's had simply said '_Forever' _while hers had been more verbose. Ron seemed to be glowing happily, nonetheless.

It was dinnertime before anyone asked Harry if he'd had any sent to him. Daniella Spinnet, hand in hand with Neville, had asked him when she recovered from the fit of giggles his robes seemed to cause in many people. After saying that no, he hadn't had any, he laid his head down on the table and cursed Fred and George again.

__

You didn't think of that, did you? No-one's sent you a Kiss. Maybe famous Harry Potter isn't so famous after all.

The thought didn't really bother Harry. He didn't care if he got buried in Kisses. It only mattered if he got none at all. Lifting his head again, he saw the last few Kisses buzz their way into the Hall again in their long running search for their targets. There only seemed to be two of them, headed for the Gryffindor table. Strangely, they seemed to be flying in tandem.

__

Probably for Seamus and Lavender. Didn't see them at breakfast this morning, and they seemed out of breath when they got to Potions. Must have sent them to each other at break time. Or maybe it's like two owls supporting one another on a long flight? Maybe in a few months I'll care enough to ask, he thought with a wry grin.

The whole of the Hall seemed to be following the faint buzzing of the last two Kisses. One dropped near the end of the table, and Harry couldn't see who caught it in the clamour of hands.

The other came to a halt in front of him. He looked at it in surprise, blinking at it, expecting it to move on. Slowly, he reached out and closed his fingers around it. At the last second, it dodged.

__

About right, he thought. He made another grab for it, and failed. Three more times he tried, and each time it ducked, dived, or bobbed beyond his grasp. In despair, he grabbed for his wand.

"_Petrificus totalus!_" The Cupid's Kiss froze in mid dodge, allowing Harry to grab it as it dropped. Shoving his wand back in to his bag, he glared at the sweet as though it were the very embodiment of his day's problems. Without stopping to think, he shoved it into his mouth, and then froze.

__

Wow.


	17. Chapter Seventeen: Gryffindor vs Ravencl...

**__**

Chapter Seventeen: Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw

Harry had spent the days since receiving the Cupid Kiss on tenterhooks. The message was simple. _Harry, I'm crazy about you. When you win the Cup then I'll show you who I am. _The feel of the kiss as it exploded in his mouth had been amazing. He knew, knew in his heart that there was only one person who could do that. The way she'd grinned whenever she'd seen him since then was enough for him to know. Almost, anyway. He'd have been positive if it weren't for the way that every girl in the school seemed to be grinning at him the same way.

So he lay awake the night before the match, the dormitory silent with everyone still downstairs. He tried to banish the thought from his head, but it stuck. _Win the cup, get Ginny. Win the Cup, get Ginny. Win the Cup, get-_

"Harry?"

"In here," he said, looking at the silhouette in the doorway. "Is something wrong, Ron?"

"Everyone's wondering where you got to," Ron said, coming into the room. "You okay? Not feeling ill, are you?" he added, a note of panic creeping into his voice. Harry grinned.

"No, I'm fine. Just wanted a bit of time alone."

"Harry. . . That Kiss you got. . ."

"Yeah?"

"Was it. . . Was it from Ginny?"

Harry swallowed in the darkness. He'd been hoping this conversation wouldn't happen tonight.

"I don't know. Whoever it was, they said they wouldn't reveal who they were unless, well, unless we win tomorrow."

"So you've got two reasons to want to win tomorrow," Ron said, trying to force some humour into his voice.

"Yeah," Harry said., staring at the ceiling. "I guess so." _Don't ask, don't ask, don't-_

"Harry. . ."

". . .yeah?"

"Do you _want_ it to have come from Ginny?"

Harry swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. Walking around the dormitory, he stood in front of Ron, his friend's face nervous in the moonlight. He took a deep breath, and quietly said;

"I like Ginny a lot, Ron. I know you've noticed that. I tried not to, but I've been feeling like this about her since the summer. I guess it's the same way you feel about Hermione. So, yeah, Ron, I'm hoping the Kiss was from your sister."

"Right," Ron said, before turning and walking out of the door. It closed quietly behind him.

__

Damn.

*

Ron found Hermione sitting by the fire, trying to focus on her Arithmancy coursework through the maelstrom raging around her.

"You talked to him," she said, not looking up from the textbook.

"Yeah," he said, sitting cross-legged at her feet. He leant back against her legs, and stared into the fire. "I was right. He likes her. I mean, really likes her. What am I going to do?"

"Why do you have to do anything?"

"He's my best friend, 'Mione. And she's my sister."

"And?"

Her quill scratched across the parchment as he tried to marshal his thoughts.

"It's not that I don't wish Harry the very best, but. . ."

"So Ginny's not the very best?" Hermione asked, quietly. Ron paused, and then turned over, resting his chin on her knees. The quill scratched across the parchment some more.

"I'm being stupid, aren't I?" he said.

"Yes," she said. Then she looked up, her eyes sparkling mischievously beneath her fringe. "But at least you're getting better at recognising it."

He grinned sheepishly, and stood up, sliding into the seat beside her. The Arithmancy homework soon lay forgotten.

*

"Harry? Harry, you awake?"

Harry stared at the canopy of his four poster bed. He couldn't sleep, and didn't want another discussion with Ron right now. He kept silent.

"Huh, guess not. 'Spose it can wait 'til tomorrow."

*

The wind streamed through Harry's hair as he sped around the Quidditch pitch. The match was ten minutes old, and Ravenclaw were proving a tough nut to crack. Fred and George were attacking with reckless abandon, the Bludgers flying with pinpoint accuracy at the Ravenclaw team. Harry winced as Cho lost her balance and tried desperately to right herself on her broom while she looked around for the Snitch.

"And after ten minutes the match is still scoreless, but there's not been a dull moment. These two teams are very evenly matched, you can barely fit a wand between them!"

The Slytherins were booing lustily, as they always did when their team wasn't on the pitch. The Hufflepuffs were cheering everyone, while the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws were as partisan a group of supporters as one would expect. Every feint, every dive, every pass, shot and save was cheered loudly. Harry felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle as he looked around at the crowd.

"Pay attention, Harry!" George yelled as he just intercepted a Bludger that had been aimed at Harry's stomach. Harry grinned sheepishly and dived back into the match, cutting directly in front of Cho as she made a long, looping circuit of the pitch in search of the Snitch.

"Oi!" she yelled. He waved back at her, and heard her laugh. Harry smiled happily. Whatever was going to happen after the match, it was directly under his control now. He would win this match the way he always had, by getting the Snitch. So much the better that it was being played in such a friendly spirit. The competition for the Quidditch Cup had seemingly been left behind, which surprised Harry, but the sheer respect the two teams had for one another meant that the teams were as interested in the match itself as they were the result.

At the far end of the pitch, Harry saw Katie seize on a misplaced Ravenclaw pass and accelerate goalwards on her Nimbus 2000. He began to chase after her, intent on providing assistance if it was needed. Even as the Firebolt hit top speed, though, he saw it wasn't necessary. Katie feinted left and slotted the Quaffle neatly into the right Ravenclaw goal hoop. 

"Gryffindor lead, ten points to nil!"

After half an hour, the teams were all square. Harry was high above the stadium, extremely grateful for Hermione's glowstone, which kept him warm in the cool February air.

"At sixty points a piece, this match is as level as can be. Neither team seems willing to give an inch! It's been a scintillating match, played in the true spirit of the match, and- Is that the Snitch?"

Indeed it was. Lee's magnified call brought everyone's head around, and they could all see the Snitch, hovering almost directly above the centre circle. Harry and Cho saw it too, from opposite sides of the stadium. Turning in, they willed their broomsticks on, wringing every ounce of speed from the magic. It was Harry's Firebolt against Cho's Nimbus 2001, Cho's slight head start making the contest a very even one.

They sped onward, no thought on their minds save the Snitch. They were on a collision course, no time to brake or evade, and then;

"The Snitch moves! They're gonna crash!"

But they didn't. Seeming to act with one mind, the Seekers slewed to their respective rights, halting in mid air for a split second with their backs to one another as their momentum ceased. Then they were spiralling downward, their brooms spinning through a double helix of blurry red and blue that had the whole crowd holding their breath as the Snitch led the fearless Seekers onward.

"Unbelievable flying from our Seekers! If neither of these players turns pro, I'll eat my cauldron!"

At the very last second, the Snitch shot off at a right angle, cutting across the grass of the pitch at an incredible speed. Amazingly, the Seekers were equal to the challenge, and were already pulling their broomsticks up and parallel to the ground. They were a single blur now, the magic from their overtaxed broomsticks crackling in the air behind them.

"Potter and Chang inseparable, and their sharp turn has gained them ground on the Snitch. The Snitch is going lower. Much lower and it'll be underground! It's close, it's-"

It was, everyone agreed, a spectacular crash. Harry and Cho took their hands from their brooms at the same instant, reached forward for the Snitch, and in doing so, shifted their balance forward just enough to send the noses of their brooms into the ground.

The combined mass of two brooms and two Seekers ploughed the Quidditch pitch for nearly fifty metres, and there were screams of fear from the crowd. The remaining members of the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor teams sped downward, briefly obscuring their Seekers, and then Harry and Cho rose up on the shoulders of their teams, the players intermingling as the Seekers raised their joined hands above their heads.

"It's a tie! A tie! Chang and Potter both have the Snitch! That's seventy-five points each, and Ravenclaw and Gryffindor tie for the Quidditch Cup! What an amazing match! People will be talking about this for years to come! Simply incredible!"

*

Whether it was because it was the second party of the week or not, Harry didn't know, but he seemed to have less enthusiasm then he might otherwise have done. Winning the Quidditch Cup, or a share of it, was always cause for celebration, and he'd certainly indulged in his share of Butterbeer and Fizzing Whizbees. However, he kept looking at his watch, as though waiting for something. 

__

Someone.

He collapsed into a chair as Fred and George began juggling their clubs, Trevor the Toad, Hermione's copy of _Hogwarts: A History _and an unexploded Birthday Bomb back and forth. Harry watched with interest as the speed began to pick up, and laughed along with everyone else when Fred missed his catch. The Bomb went off and covered him in soot, just before _Hogwarts: A History _hit him in the stomach, and sent him staggering backward, landing in Angelina's lap. Harry shook his head. The twins had a knack when it came to women, there was no denying it.

He looked up when a shadow fell across his lap. Ron was looking down at him, an emotional war playing out on his open, honest face.

"You can date Ginny," he said. "If the Kiss was from her, I won't give you any hassle. Just don't hurt her. Ever."

With that, he turned on his heel and stalked off, the tips of his ears very red. Harry looked after him in amazement.

*

The party went on long and loudly, until, at two in the morning, even Fred and George decided to call it a night. Sort of. Harry watched from beside the Common Room fire as the twins, along with Alicia, Angelina, Lee and Katie slipped out of the portrait hole. Harry could hear the Fat Lady calling after them, but to no avail. He'd overheard them making plans that apparently involved the Prefect's bathroom, and Harry knew full well that the Fat Lady had little chance of stopping that sort of adventure.

He stood up and stretched. Looking around the common room, he smiled ruefully at the mess that would need to be cleared up the next day. Maybe if he slept long enough, the others would do it? He snorted. Not likely. Another example to set. . . He pulled out his wand, and doused the lights with a flick. Heading for the stairs to his dormitory, he paused, and turned around, a light breeze on the back of his neck telling him there was a window open somewhere.

And there, silhouetted against the fire, she stood.

*

__

You're four years old, and learning to read from The Boy Who Lived. Your brothers are re-enacting the scary parts, and you feel so sorry for the little boy who lost his parents.

Six now and one of the schoolbooks tells you more about Harry, about how he lives with Muggles and won't learn any magic unless he goes to a wizarding school.

Eight years old, and you spend the afternoon drawing a picture of a black-haired boy and a red-haired girl holding hands.

Ten now, and your brother starts to write to you. That nice boy you met on the platform, who you didn't find out until afterwards was Harry Potter, he's your brother's best friend.

Eleven, and you come down to breakfast in your pyjamas. And Harry's sitting there, smiling at you! You run away.

Eleven still, and everyone's teasing you, even your brothers, and Harry doesn't notice you. Only one person understands you, a spirit in your diary. But you're not feeling at all well…

Twelve, and Harry's risking his life for you, and you're so grateful, and there's nothing you can say to explain how you feel.

Fourteen, and the chance to go with Harry to the Yule Ball has just passed you by. And you cry yourself to sleep that night, knowing that it's not to be.

Fourteen, and he's standing there, in front of you, and you're so scared because, maybe, he's about to kiss you. And then the Dementors attack, and the moment is lost, and you can never quite get it back, and now he's the one who looks scared.

Fifteen, and he's standing there, looking at you, nervous, and worried, and anxious, and everything that you're feeling, _he's feeling too._

*

"Hi," they said together. Harry came away from the stairs, walking slowly toward the fireplace where Ginny stood.

"Did you like your Kiss?" Harry said, stumbling over the words, aware of every bone, every muscle, every joint in his body.

"Did you like yours?" Ginny replied, her hands clenched in front of her to stop them shaking.

"It was you then?" Harry said. "Does it matter that we didn't win outright?"

"I can forgive you," she said. "Can you forgive me for playing with you the last few days?"

Harry stopped scant inches in front of her. He reached out a trembling hand and touched her clenched fingers. Slowly, she unwrapped her hands from one another, and slipped her hand into his. He squeezed gently, and looked her in the eyes. His gaze took in the deep brown eyes that mirrored the anxiety he was feeling. He smiled as the breeze from the open window caught her hair, making it dance in the firelight. Reaching out with his free hand, he traced his fingers through her hair, revelling in the silky feel.

"You have the most amazing hair," he said, looking at her eyes once more. She stood frozen, no longer even trembling, just focussed on him. "You are the most amazing girl," he added, quietly, his gaze slipping downwards, away from her eyes. Glancing back up, he thought he could see the trademark Ginny blush begin to spread across her cheeks.

__

You said you wanted her to be less embarrassed around you. . .

Taking her head in his hands, he tilted it back slightly and leant forward, pressing his lips gently against hers. The last sane thought either managed as they flowed into one another's arms was:

__

The Cupid's Kiss was nothing against the real thing.


	18. Chapter Eighteen: Good Moods and Gleeful...

**__**

Chapter Eighteen: Good Moods and Gleeful Glances

The Great Hall on Sunday morning was a largely subdued sight. Gryffindor and Ravenclaw houses had celebrated long into the night, and Slytherin were sparsely represented, though no one really cared enough to find out why.

Ron and Hermione were, as ever, sitting happily together, reading the Daily Prophet. Fred and George had bags under their eyes and wide smiles on their faces. The three Weasleys tried to distract Hermione long enough for one of them to get hold of the Prophet and read the match report, but so far she'd managed to twist to just the right positions to avoid losing control of the paper. She hummed quietly to herself as she placed an elbow, apparently accidentally, on Fred's hand. She glanced over the top of the paper, and froze, allowing George to snatch the paper from her hands.

"Aha!" he said. "Here we are. "'Tie In Hogwarts Quidditch Cu-' What is it Fred?" he asked, as his twin jabbed him in the ribs. 

Then he too looked up. And saw. Harry and Ginny had come down to breakfast together, grinning madly and holding hands as they walked into the Great Hall.

"No-" Fred said.

"-way," George finished.

"Not Ginny. No way Ginny. She's only fifteen!" Fred stammered.

"You'd rather she went out with someone in Slytherin?" Ron asked, quietly. "Or what about Justin from Hufflepuff?"

"No way," George said, looking from his sister to his youngest brother. "But are you saying you think it's a good idea?"

Ron shrugged. "I don't think we've got much of a choice," he said. "Do you want to tell Ginny who she can and can't date? I mean, go ahead, by all means, but just let me find somewhere to shelter, yeah?"

Fred and George looked at each other, and grimaced. "Yeah, okay, fair point. Besides, Mum'll be made up when we tell her," Fred began. Hermione shook her head.

"Don't," she said. "That's one thing Ginny'll have to tell your parents herself."

George looked at Fred and pouted. "Ginny's got a boyfriend, we can't say anything, we can't tell Mum, we can't beat him up. . ."

Fred nodded. "I don't know what the world is coming to. We can still tease her, right?"

George brightened. "Yeah, we can do that. Him too. I mean, if he wasn't family before, he is now."

Grinning, the twins stood up and walked over to where Harry and Ginny were sitting, holding hands. Harry was absently pouring sugar over his bacon and eggs.

"That wasn't very nice, Ron," Hermione said, half disapprovingly.

"Harry'd have to face them sometime," Ron said, with a small grin. "Besides, would you have let me do anything to him?"

"Of course not."

"Well, I had to do something. She's my sister!"

Picking up the paper, he turned to the Quidditch article, smiling slightly.

*

Harry and Ginny escaped the twins and fled the Great Hall. A long, lazy Sunday lay ahead of them, blessedly free of the homework that the teachers knew wouldn't have been done on a Quidditch weekend.

Hand in hand, they made their way to the main doors, intending to visit Hagrid. Suddenly, Ginny froze.

"What is it?" Harry said, his senses tingling as he sought whatever it was that had made her stop. He looked around frantically, not feeling the icy coldness that signalled a Dementor, but not knowing what else could make Ginny react like this.

"It's Percy," she whispered, looking for all the world like the worst thing she could imagine had happened.

"Percy? But. . . Oh, he said he was doing an open day here, I remember now," Harry said. He looked at Ginny. "Ashamed of your family knowing?" he asked, curiously.

"Of course not," she said, smiling in spite of herself. "But this really wasn't how I wanted Mum and Dad to find out. I mean, can you imagine how Percy will make it sound? 'Gallivanting around with Harry instead of doing her work. . . Up until all hours. . .'" She shuddered. Harry grinned, evilly.

"You need to give your parents more credit," he said. "Besides, didn't you find Percy with Penelope one day?"

Ginny's expression slowly turned from one of anxiety to one of mischievous glee. She glanced out of the main doors, to where Percy was strolling with Professor Flitwick. "I'd forgotten that. Well, so would you if you'd seen it. Harry, you're just amazing, you know that?"

He brushed his fingers through her hair, tracing the line of her cheek and making her giggle. It was a sound he found endlessly appealing. "You're not too bad yourself," he replied.

*

"Perce," Ginny cried, running forward and launching herself at her older brother. No longer the slight figure she'd been on arriving at Hogwarts, Ginny was now a growing teenager, and the assault sent Percy sprawling backwards on the grass with a very undignified "Ough!"

"It's so great to see you!" she continued, squeezing her brother tightly, while Professor Flitwick laughed. Harry arrived while Percy was struggling to extricate himself from his sister's grip, and in no fit state to do much of anything. Professor Flitwick departed with a wave, laughing all the way back up to the school. 

"Harry, I'm sorry to go running off like that, but. . ."

"That's all right Gin," he said, reaching for her hand. Pulling her up, he held on to her, and offered his free hand to Percy. The elder Weasley stood slowly, his glasses knocked askew.

"Uhhh. . ." he managed, then smiled. "It's good to see you as well, of course, Ginny. And you, Harry. I do hope you'll be coming along to the Open Day tomorrow?" he said, the capital letters dropping neatly into place.

"Wouldn't miss it," Ginny said, squeezing Harry's hand. Percy frowned slightly. 

"Ginny. . ." he said, looking at her quizzically. "Did you do something to your hair?"

Harry stifled a laugh, managing to turn it into a cough, while Ginny replied "Just a new way of brushing it."

"Oh, well, it suits you. Makes you look more mature," Percy replied, looking at Harry a little worriedly. "That's a nasty cough, Harry, are you feeling okay?"

"I'm all right, Percy, thank you," Harry said, gesturing accidentally with the hand holding Ginny's. Percy finally seemed to catch on, at least his eyes widened a little, before sliding from Harry to Ginny, but then he shook his head.

"I understand the match yesterday was quite entertaining," he said.

Soon the three were walking happily through the Hogwarts grounds, chatting about Quidditch, the Weasley family, and old times at the school. Percy was greeted loudly by his brothers upon arriving at the table for lunch, and the grin he sported for much of the meal was very undignified and made him look much more like a typical Weasley. After the meal, Harry commented on the change to George, who looked at him as though sizing him up. Leading him a little way away from the others, he leaned in close. Harry was struck by how strange it was to talk to just one twin rather than both of them, and he could feel the shift in mood it brought.

"The thing is, Harry," George began, checking all the while to see they couldn't be overheard, "Percy, Dad, Bill and Charlie have all been working against Voldemort from their jobs. Charlie and Bill are really just supplying any information they hear out in Egypt and Romania, but Perce and Dad. . . Well, they've been working from inside the Ministry all the last year. It's a big risk if they're caught, but they both think it's worth it."

"So the Ministry really isn't doing much?" Harry asked, his chest feeling tight.

"Not as much as they should. But Dad won't say much. He's told us to stay out of trouble this year, try and make sure there's no reason for anyone to look too closely at the family for any reason, in case they notice anything different."

"That's why you stopped Ron from attacking Malfoy back in Diagon Alley during the summer," Harry said suddenly. "And he's not been letting Snape and Malfoy wind him up like he usually does."

George nodded silently, and Harry wondered about how hard it must have been for Ron. Every scathing comment from Snape, every snide remark from Malfoy. . . Still, Hermione seemed to like his newfound 'maturity' so maybe his friend wasn't suffering as much as he might have been. He realised that, for Percy, today was something of a holiday, free from the stresses of his job and the almost double life he was leading as a member of both the Ministry and Dumbledore's private network. It was a pleasure to be around the Weasleys when they were at their most boisterous. Harry looked over at Ginny and grinned. Perhaps now he'd be around them a bit more often.


	19. Chapter Nineteen: Bad News, Good News

**__**

Chapter Nineteen: Bad News, Good News

The Daily Prophet the next day carried a sensational lead story. Death Eaters had attacked a number of sites simultaneously over the weekend. St. Mungo's wizarding hospital had been attacked, as had Diagon Alley. A number of highly placed Ministry wizards had been attacked, and reports suggested that the attacks had had a global aspect, with the Dark mark being seen in several European countries, as well as America and Australia. The Daily Prophet ran an article that reported scathingly on the Ministry that, Harry suspected, must have been true. Other than the Dementor attack on Hogsmeade, it seemed, there were no undercover Aurors, no Ministry preparation of any kind in place to counter the attacks. Looking over the top of the paper at Hermione, he knew she'd had the same thought.

The sole bright spot, in so far as there were any, was in the rapid promotion of Arthur Weasley. The International Confederation of Wizards praised Mr Weasley's diligence in having his staff prepared for such attacks, and he was elevated to the role of Deputy Minister of Magic. Fred quietly voiced the suspicion that Cornelius Fudge had sacrificed his own deputy rather than face the music himself. At least the Minister was promising new measures to deal with what he termed "obvious imitators of the long defeated Death Eaters."

The school was in shock for the next few weeks. Almost from nowhere, Voldemort's forces had begun a concentrated terror campaign. Reports from Hermione's parents, and other Muggle families like the Finch-Fletchleys, suggested that the non-wizarding world was yet to pick up on the attacks directly, although reports of strange lights in the sky and unexplained paranormal phenomena seemed to show a marked increase.

And then, as suddenly as the attacks had begun, they stopped. The Daily Prophet, which had been reporting attacks on an almost daily basis, went a week with nothing more than gradually diminishing speculation about the next target of the 'reinvigorated' Death Eaters. Ten days after the last fresh report, even that was gone. Harry couldn't believe the casual dismissal of the events, but Hermione had her own theory.

"The Ministry," she said. "They must be putting pressure on the papers. I mean, we still want to read about these attacks, so I would think that most people in the outside world would as well."

But Hermione was wrong. Harry didn't want to read about the attacks, didn't even want to think about them. How could it be that when his life was suddenly so good, that everything was falling apart? He looked up at the top table, and realised that Professor Dumbledore was looking even more tired now as he had at the end of the previous school year.

"Ron, Hermione," he said. You remember Lockhart's Duelling Club?"

Ron and Hermione nodded cautiously. They could hardly forget the single evening several years ago that had revealed to the entire school that Harry spoke Parseltongue.

"Well," Harry looked around, a little embarrassed. "How well do you know your hexes?"

*

Harry's suggestion that the Duelling Club be restarted was approved with caution. Professors' McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick and Sprout would be supervising, but they had little to worry about. The students worked with quiet intensity on mastering the spells most often used in open combat, and soon morale in the school began to turn slightly upwards. The only downside was how little Harry got to see of Ginny, and Ron of Hermione. Conflicts in classes, excess amounts of homework and Harry and Hermione's supervision of the Duelling Club kept the two couples from spending more than a few fleeting moments alone together at the end of the day.

It was with immense relief that at the end of the Spring term, Harry came down to breakfast with Ron to find Professor Dumbledore tapping his goblet gently and rising to speak.

"In light of the sterling work on the part of the student body of this school in learning how to magically assault one another," he grinned. "I am happy to announce the reinstatement of the Hogsmeade weekend. Next Saturday then," he continued through the storm of cheering. "Next Saturday, all students of third year and above will be allowed to travel to Hogsmeade, under strict supervision, of course. Even so, the visit will have to be shorter than usual, and as such I will ask you to understand that the visit will run only from two pm until five pm. However, I have spoken to the owners of Zonko's joke shop and Honeydukes sweet shop, and postal orders will be accepted over the next week, ready for collection on Saturday."

The great round of applause that filled the Hall made Harry grin widely, and he beamed at Ginny, eager to spend a few hours alone with her. He fervently hoped that it wouldn't be the only chance they'd get over the Easter break for some time together.

*

The four friends worked incredibly hard over the first several days of the holidays. The Duelling Club was every night, but the rest of the time was given over to schoolwork. For once, Hermione didn't complain when the three of them picked her brain about their projects, for even Hermione needed help with a few things.

"Ron…" she said one evening, scraping her hands back through her hair. "What's the anti-arachnid spell?"

Ron, who was obsessive about anything he could use to combat his arachnophobia, and even more obsessive about showing off in front of Hermione, grinned at Harry and said "Aronia Exemae."

"Thanks," Hermione said absently, already leaning forward over her parchment again and scribbling furiously.

*

By the Thursday, though, their hard work had paid off. Their holiday work was done, and even Hermione, reading through it, was satisfied.

"We've all worked really hard," she said, standing up and slamming the Potions text shut. "Now, I think we deserve some fun."

"Finally, some good news," Ron grinned, slipping his arms around Hermione, who smiled a little sheepishly. Harry smiled as well, and tugged gently on Ginny's hand. The two couples tactfully separated, Harry and Ginny going out of the common room and down the main stairs toward the lake, Ron and Hermione going down the back stairs toward the Quidditch pitch.

"Definitely good news," Hermione agreed, when they reached the top of one of the viewing towers.

*

Two days later, the students set off for Hogsmeade just after lunch. They were in understandably high spirits, juvenile spells bouncing back and forth between them as they made their way to Britain's only purely magical settlement. Fred in particular took an apparently overly strong Cheering Charm from Ginny, and had to be carried much of the way by Lee and George, every jolt setting off a fresh peel of giggles until they dumped him on a bench in the town square. He promptly jumped up and grinned evilly at them, before haring off towards the Shrieking Shack with them in outraged but exhausted pursuit.

Ron, Hermione, Harry and Ginny made their way through the crowds, eager to have a drink in the Three Broomsticks before going their separate ways. Hermione made sure to go up to the bar, although, Harry knew with a grin, Ron never looked at Madam Rosmerta these days. He had his priorities straight.

*

Half an hour later, they left the Three Broomsticks, feeling much warmer from drinking the Butterbeer. Hermione and Ginny grinned at one another.

"See you then."

"Yes."

The two couples turned away from each other, and were about to walk away in opposite directions when a fully grown wizard Apparated in front of them. Harry gasped.

Black robes, a hood, and a bare left forearm on which the Dark Mark glowed in bright red. The wand in the masked wizard's right hand was instantly pointed at the four of them. Even staring at the Mark, Harry was dimly aware of more wizards Apparating around them, all garbed in the same outfits, all sporting the Dark Mark on their bare arms.

Icy fear began to flow through Harry's body, and he felt himself falling, screams surrounding him, the final few moments of his parents' lives being played out around him again and again. Shaking violently, he forced himself away from the pit of misery that accompanied that memory. He opened eyes he didn't remember closing, and took several shuddering breaths as his mind slowly came to terms with the situation.

Voldemort had decided to attack Hogsmeade once more, and this time he was taking no chances. With the Dementors had come the Death Eaters, Voldemort's personal troops, and the outlook for Harry and his friends looked very black indeed.


	20. Chapter Twenty: Hogsmeade At War

**__**

Chapter Twenty: Hogsmeade At War

Harry swallowed slowly, feeling as though the slightest move would trigger an all out attack by Voldemort's forces. The whole of Hogsmeade was silent, and Harry could feel the breeze blowing gently on the back of his neck. The Death Eaters and the Dementors stood still where they had Apparated, savouring the sight before them. The pupils of Hogwarts School, plus the population of Hogsmeade, all stood at their mercy. Harry shivered as though he could feel the wave of malevolent, perverse pleasure washing off the black-clad figures.

"_Crucio!_"

The muttered conjuring cut through the silence like a blade. It was followed a second later by an agonised scream as one of the witches who served in the post office was caught by the Cruciatus curse. She jerked horribly as though being crushed by an invisible hand. A wizard standing nearby looked as though he wanted to help her, but was restrained by a hand on his arm. The Death Eater whose hand it was strode easily through the crowd, tapping a silver-capped cane on the ground as he walked, the only thing moving other than the screaming, twitching woman. 

"Enough!" The single word lashed out like a whip, and the woman dropped to the ground, whimpering in her agony. The Death Eater stood over her, the cane in his hand. He prodded her sharply, and then turned to look at another Death Eater, this one several inches taller and much heavier, bringing his cane up to poke the larger man in the chest.

"You were told," he said, jabbing with the cane. "We are not here to hurt people in such a manner. It is not necessary. These people know that the Dark Lord has sent us, and so they will do as they are told. Tempting though it may be to kill and torture, that is not part of our mission today. Do not disobey your orders again, lest you wish to be the subject of a little. . . experiment I have in mind."

The chastened Death Eater stood before his apparent leader, glaring his defiance. Then the shorter man's hand lashed out with lightning speed, the cane crashing into the side of the larger man's head. The Death Eater dropped bonelessly to the ground. Harry heard Ginny gasp. Automatically, his hand searched for hers, and he took some comfort from the feel of her. It lasted as long as it took him to focus on the fallen Death Eater. Part of him wanted to rejoice at the falling of an enemy, but another part of him rebelled, sickened by the viciousness and ruthlessness the shorter man had shown to someone who was theoretically his comrade. What chance did they have against an enemy that was capable of such things?

The Death Eater turned in a slow circle, the only thing moving now besides the robes of the Dementors as the wind blew gently through the streets. He raised his cane as he turned, pointing with the ornate silver handle as he looked around him.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," he said. "However, it serves to illustrate a point. We are not here to kill, not today. We knew that today would bring the Hogwarts pupils back to this town. We are only after one of them. We take him, we go, and no one need be hurt. It really is that simple, and you get to live. Under the circumstances, and I'm sure I don't need to explain to you exactly how much damage myself and my comrades could cause, I think we are being extremely reasonable."

"Who is it you want?" Harry heard. Looking around, he saw Madam Rosmerta standing in the doorway of the Three Broomsticks. He gaped at her, distantly feeling Ginny's hand tighten in his. His attention flicked from Rosmerta, who had started walking across the town square, to the Death Eater, who was standing almost expectantly, his hands on the head of his cane, the point planted firmly in the ground in front of him. Harry could tell that it would be the work of a second to raise the cane and strike Madam Rosmerta down, probably with even more viciousness than he had shown his comrade.

"You know who we want, Rosmerta," the Death Eater said, silkily. "No reason to risk the safety of your business for a child you barely know, yes?"

"You'll take the Potter boy, and leave the rest of us in peace?"

"For now, yes," the Death Eater replied, drawing out the final -s like the hiss of a snake.

"Very well," Rosmerta said quietly. "He's over there," she said, pointing away from the Three Broomsticks. "I saw him going toward Honeydukes."

The Death Eater's head almost turned, for a fraction of a second even was turning. But then his hands moved, and Rosmerta was borne to the ground with a sickening crack. 

The hooded figure turned slowly, red blood glistening on the silver head of his cane.

"Let that be a warning to each and every one of you," he said, raising his cane to emphasise the point. "We do not talk, we do not prevaricate, we do not waste time. We will strike, and you will suffer. Unless. . ."

The Death Eater's voice trailed off, and his gaze settled on a group of students sitting near Harry and his friends.

"Unless you give me the Potter boy."

The Death Eater approached the group of students, and lashed out with his cane. There was a sharp cry, and Harry watched a third year boy fall to the ground, one arm limp at his side.

"It's not so much to ask, is it? One boy, for all of your lives? And that is what is at stake here, have no doubts."

He moved on a few steps, before spinning and driving his cane into the leg of a worker at the Post Office. The man yelled in pain, and crumpled gracelessly to the ground, clutching his knee.

"Come now, Potter, make yourself known. Show some of that famous Gryffindor bravery. Save all these people, and I promise you an honourable end."

The Death Eater raised his hand above his head, and let it drop. One by one, the Dementors began their slow advance, tightening the ring they had drawn around the innocent civilians. As the ring grew smaller, students, shopkeepers, and the other inhabitants of Hogsmeade clustered together, their fear growing by the second. Harry tried to ignore the echoes in his mind, the dreadful replay of his parents deaths, the feeling of despair as Hermione and Ginny lay seemingly dead before him, the sheer terror of confronting Voldemort once more, the silent corpse of Cedric Diggory bearing testimony to the evil he was facing now.

"Not death, though," the Death Eater said. "No, Lord Voldemort has great plans for you. And I promise you, they do not involve your death."

"Okay," Harry said, quietly. The word sounded like the slamming of lead doors in the silence of the terrified town.

"Harry, no!" Ginny whispered, pulling on Harry's wrist as he walked forward.

"I have to," he said quietly, half turning to shake off her grip.

"Ah, Mr Potter," the Death Eater said. Harry stood firm in front of the tall man. His eyes fixed on the snake's head that topped the man's cane.

"Hello, Mr Malfoy," Harry said loudly.

Harry's eyes flickered upward as he said the name, and he was rewarded with the Death Eater's own eyes widening behind the black hood. 

"Well, well, well," the Death Eater said quietly. "You surprise me, Mr Potter. You have recognised me? Well, it pains me to do this, but you can't be allowed to give me away. So, stand still my boy, and this won't," he added, his eyes gleaming, "hurt a bit."

The Death Eater, Lucius Malfoy, was already drawing his wand from within his cane. The black ash rod seemed to already be shining at its tip as whatever spell Lucius had in mind struggled to be cast.

Harry would never know what the spell was meant to be. With reflexes honed by years on the Quidditch pitch, and a decade or more of dodging Dudley, he dived forward, not thinking, just reacting. His shoulder hit Lucius hard in the midriff, sending the taller man staggering backwards, the black wand tumbling from his hand.

Harry jumped to his feet, his fingers closing around Lucius' wand as he rose. The older man clutched at his stomach, glaring fiercely down at him.

"Give me back my wand, boy," he spat. "Give me my wand, or I shall give the order, and everyone here will die. Do you understand me? They. . . will. . . die!"

"_Expecto Patronum!_" came a roar. Both Harry and Lucius Malfoy looked in the direction of the cry. A faint silver falcon hung briefly in the air, before diving down at a Dementor.

The thrall that had frozen the village was broken. One spell had been all that it had taken. One person defying the seemingly insurmountable odds. The silver falcon swooped again, and was joined by a kestrel and a buzzard. A silver menagerie began to emerge from the wands of the resisting wizards and witches. The adults of Hogsmeade were taking advantage of the surprise their resistance was creating, and were attacking the Dementors. 

But the black-clad former Azkaban guards did not, it seemed, fall victim to surprise. Already Harry could feel the waves of terror growing stronger. He struggled to remain lucid as, one by one, the Dementors spread their wave of fear through the village. Behind him, someone was yelling.

"Everyone! Like we practised! Now!"

__

Ron, Harry thought. _Putting himself in harm's way for my sake. Again._

Harry saw Lucius' head come around like a cracked whip. But Harry was already moving, diving sideways past a bulky Death Eater who momentarily served as a shield between Harry and Lucius.

"Get him!" Lucius yelled, waving his arm in Harry's direction. Harry weaved and dived through the crowd, which was slowly breaking up into small clusters of fighting. Ahead of him, he could see Seamus and Dean huddled behind a water trough, firing off spells at a pair of Death Eaters who were sheltering behind an advertising hoarding.

__

They weren't ready for resistance! Harry thought, desperately. All around him, the villagers, the students, and even now some of the Hogwarts teachers were fighting back.

"_Expecto Patronum!_" a voice roared to his right. Glancing to that side, he saw Neville standing tall with Daniella Spinnet at his side. Neville's stare was calm and calculating, scything from side to side across the battlefield. His Patronus gleamed brightly before him, a tall man with glasses and straw-like hair similar to Neville's. Without stopping, Harry knew that Neville was being protected by his father, and smiled tightly.

"Potter!"

Harry didn't look back. Instead, he broke for a clear patch of ground, ducking under the clumsy lunge of Crabbe, the Slytherin boy apparently having chosen his side in the conflict. Harry briefly wondered if Crabbe had even the faintest idea what was truly going on.

Ducking and diving through the crowd, Harry heard the meaty sound of two bodies colliding behind him. Rather than slowing to look back, he put on a last burst of acceleration, and broke through the crowd into the empty space beyond. Still running at full speed, he ran from Hogsmeade, hoping to lessen the severity of the fighting, maybe even draw the dark forces away from his friends, and the other innocents that had been put at risk because of him.

*

"Where the bloody hell's Harry going?" Fred roared over the chaos.

Gryffindors, Slytherins, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws stood back to back, fighting to defend themselves and their friends in the face of the dark force's attack. Ron stood side to side with Blaise Zabini and Justin Finch-Fletchley, while the twins flanked Cho Chang. All around the battlefield the students were clustered in small groups, holding their own as the Dementors advanced inexorably. Fortunately or otherwise, the former Azkaban guards seemed to be discouraged from feeding on their foes, seeming instead to settle for spreading discord among the Hogsmeade defenders. Ron grimaced as a middle-aged warlock dropped his wand and tried to run, before being caught in the back by several vicious curses that left him writhing pitifully on the ground.

"He's trying to lead them away," Cho managed as she tried to Stupefy a Death Eater. "Idiot!"

*

"Harry's away," Hermione said, back to back with Ginny.

"Good," the red-haired girl replied, her wispy Patronus spraying once more from her wand. "Maybe he'll get away completely."

Neither girl said what they were really thinking. They needed to focus on the positive, or they were lost.

*

In so much as there were any positives to the battle, the presence of the Dementors seemed to be the biggest one. Voldemort had seemingly miscalculated by sending the Death Eaters back to Hogsmeade with the Dementors as reinforcements, for what Dementors want most is fear, and the associated venal emotions. The defenders of Hogsmeade certainly had fear to spare, fighting as they were for their homes, their lives, their children, but the Death Eaters had more to fear. The unexpected resistance they faced blew away any mental defences they may have had in place to protect them from the Dementors' effect. And what the Death Eaters feared was that most terrible of things: Lord Voldemort, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, resurgent, terrible and displeased with them if they failed in this mission.

As the battle wore on, both sides took casualties. The Dementors sowed terror and discord wherever they were, preparing a great banquet of terror on which they would gorge themselves given the chance. Concentration failed, terror took over, and ambushes were laid and fallen into.

The Death Eater's fought with viciousness, knowing they had made their Devil's pact, that their only hope lay in victory. They threw vile hexes and curses about them with reckless abandon, and among their number were those prepared to chance everything. Sporadically, unpredictably, lethally, Avada Kedavra was cast. Each time, a defender fell, never to rise again. 

And yet the defenders fought with hope, the greatest foe of evil everywhere. Friendships were strengthened by the fire, and where one fell, another stepped readily forward to shoulder their burden. The deaths of some among their number only strengthened their resolve, and the adults of Hogsmeade and Hogwarts stepped forward without hesitation to guard the students and children. In this, the adults displayed the anger and protective instinct of a lioness shielding her cubs.

It was a very even battle.

*

Harry, standing by the cave where Sirius had hidden the previous year, could see the broad strokes, but not the details. He tried to search for a red-headed figure, but couldn't make out individuals. He stood as though frozen at the peak of the hill, until;

"Hello, Mr Malfoy."

"You want to beg for mercy without anyone watching, Potter? Even as I say it, it seems unlikely. Not at all the style of a true Gryffindor. . ."

"What do you know about Gryffindor, Mr Malfoy? Your family has always been in Slytherin. One of the first things your son ever told me, that."

"Draco is properly proud of our position in the pantheon of wizarding families. Great things are expected of him."

"Not on the Quidditch pitch, of course," Harry goaded.

"I will say now, Potter, that you shan't press me into making a mistake. My son is immaterial to this little meeting. I am sure he has done the sensible thing, and found a safe spot to watch the extinguishing of your classmates and the other rabble that infests Hogsmeade."

"You won't make me mess up either, Mr Malfoy," Harry said, turning at last. He looked Malfoy squarely in the eye. "Besides, I still have your wand. What can you do to me without it?"

"Never trust a Malfoy, my boy," Lucius said, pointing his headless cane away from his body. As Harry watched, the black wood began to smoulder, and then suddenly burst into flame, burning rapidly down to reveal a slim yellow wand that Malfoy levelled at him. "We always bring a wand to a fistfight."

With difficulty, Harry swallowed.

*

"Dean! Seamus! Those two there!"

Ron was standing tall in the midst of the battle. While the adult witches and wizards sought to contain the worst of the dark force's attacks, the students were trying to knock holes in the defences of Voldemort's army. Many of the students looked to Ron for advice, for they knew that Ron had been in some tight situations before. Ron hadn't even thought before beginning to issue orders.

Tears streamed silently down Hermione's face as she looked out over the battlefield. She had fled, with Ginny, to the Three Broomsticks when the battle had begun to rage fiercely near them. Now the two girls looked at the fight going on before them, and tried to regain their breath.

"We're going to get through this, Hermione," Ginny said.

"Of course we are," Hermione said. "It's just that it's so horrible. . ."

"We need to go back out," Ginny said, quietly, determinedly. 

"I know. We have to fight. But I'm scared."

"So am I. So's Ron, so's Harry, so's everyone. There's no shame in being afraid."

"What if I have to fight a Dementor?" Hermione asked, trembling at the thought.

"You'll be fine," Ginny said, uncertainly. A loud crash shook the girls, and they looked at one another, their resolve strengthening.

"Let's go then," Hermione said, her steps shaky and uneven as she made for the battle once more.

*

"So?" Harry managed. "You have a wand, I have two wands, so what?"

"A fully grown wizard against a child, Mr Potter?" Lucius said, his customary sneer settling on his features. "Come now. Surely you don't think yourself capable of defeating me?"

"Why not?" Harry said, grasping at straws. "I beat Voldemort when I was a baby. Why would you be a challenge?"

"Oh, yes, the famed defeat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named," Lucius said, smiling indulgently. "Perhaps if you had any clue how you survived, or if the Dark Lord hadn't spent the last year educating myself and my brethren, well, perhaps I might then be concerned. As it is, Mr Potter, I think it is high time that we put an end to these tiresome shenanigans, don't you?"

"Your move, then," Harry said. The two stood facing one another, each awaiting the other's first move.

Then Lucius raised his wand. "_Relashio!_"

*

Ron ducked under a rogue hex, and tried desperately to think of any jinx that could break through the blocks and wards the Death Eaters were now using.

He looked around, catching sight of Draco Malfoy sitting coolly inside a top floor window of the Three Broomsticks. Ron scowled. Draco seemingly didn't want to choose his side just-

"Whaugh!" he grunted, as he was tackled from behind. He rolled over to see Ernie McMillan atop him.

"Sorry, Ron" Ernie said. "But you were about to be hexed."

Ron nodded his thanks, and the two fifth years rose up and took the fight to the enemy once more.

*

Harry dived out of the way, but the flames spraying from Lucius' wand caught the hem of his robes. He batted at the fire frantically, watching from the corner of his eye as Lucius stalked him. Eventually, he was able to put out the blaze, and rose to his feet as Lucius stopped in front of him.

"I could have killed you, of course," Lucius said. "But I don't want to do that. No, I shall present you to my master, beaten and broken. _Imperio!_"

But Harry had been ready for this. He raised Lucius' wand and cried "_Expelliarmus!_"

The spells hit in mid air, and ricocheted away from one another. Lucius frowned.

"My new wand is not related to my old school wand in any way, Potter," he said, brandishing the slim yellow wand menacingly. "That trick won't save you this time.

"Imagine, if you will, when I visited Ollivander's that first time. This wand, I was told, would be good for Transfiguration. Let us see, shall we?"

Harry was caught by surprise. Before he could move, Lucius hissed "_Expelliarmus!_" and the black wand flew from Harry's hand. Lucius reached out and caught it easily, sneering at Harry as he brought both wands around to point at him.

"Oh yes," Lucius smirked. "I changed my wand from being in your hand, to being in mine. Ollivander was right, all those years ago. . ."

*

Ron, Hermione and Ginny had regrouped, and were tucked away in an alleyway behind Zonko's. Ron was cradling one arm protectively, having been caught a glancing blow by a Death Eater's Cruciatus curse. Ginny was gasping for breath, while Hermione tried to watch both ends of the alleyway at once. They could hear the sounds of battle, the sizzling spells, the cries as people were hit, and the dull impact of bodies dropping to the ground. No-one wanted to speculate whether the bodies were dead or just stunned.

"We need to get back out there," Ron said. "The Death Eaters will win this if we're not careful."

"They're killing people," Hermione said, her voice distant. "We can't stop them, not just us."

"But it's not just us, is it?" Ron said. "Harry's fighting the leader, Fred, and George and the others are out there. . ."

"I'm scared, Ron," Hermione said, simply. "I can't fight properly, not with the Dementors out there, I just can't."

"Hermione, you can," Ron said, reaching out to her with his good hand. "You're the smartest person I know. If you can't do something, then it can't be done. You're smart, and you're brave, and you're beautiful, and I love you."

A hush fell over the scene. Even the noise of the battle seemed to come from far off.

"You. . . you do?" Hermione said, uncertainly. Ron pulled her close to him, his good arm holding her in a tight embrace.

"I do," he said, simply.

"I. . . I do too," Hermione stammered. "Love you, I mean."

Ron grinned. "Yeah, I know," he said. "Think you can fight now?"

"I think so," Hermione said, an impish grin on her lips.

Just then, a Dementor floated into the alleyway, drawn by the sudden surge in positive emotions.

"_E-_" Ginny managed

"_EXPECTO PATRONUM!!!_" 

A silvery knight, huge and imposing on its gleaming horse, charged down the Dementor. The tip of the knight's lance slammed into the Dementor's chest, sending the black garbed creature backwards into the alley wall. The Dementor's impact was a meaty crunch, and the fiend slid slowly, bonelessly to the ground.

"Now that was impressive," Ron said, grinning proudly at Hermione, whose wand was still outstretched, her face drawn in a tight frown of concentration.

*

__

"Ollivander was right, all those years ago. . ."

The words echoed in his head. Lcuius Malfoy had said them seconds before, but months before that it had been Professor Dumbledore telling Harry that. Harry grinned.

"Fine," he said. "Kill me."

He looked calmly at Lucius, the challenge hanging between the enemies like a Snitch between two Seekers.

"You can't, can you?" Harry said. "The worst you can do is stun me, maybe rough me up a little, but you can't kill me. Your master won't allow you to."

"Perhaps not, but believe me, boy," Lucius said, "when the Dark Lord is done with you, you shall most certainly wish I had killed you. Not just because of the myriad tortures that will be inflicted on you, but because you shall see what the loss of the great and wonderful Harry Potter does to the morale of those who oppose us."

"You don't have a clue, Mr Malfoy," Harry said, narrowing his eyes. "What happens to me can not, will not affect what happens to you and your leader. Whether I'm dead or alive, you will be hunted down and put away. And then," Harry added, inspiration striking, "maybe we'll make a story of you. Everyone knows my story, Mr Malfoy. How I defeated Voldemort, how I became the youngest Seeker at Hogwarts in a hundred years, how I defeated Voldemort twice more. . . Now everyone can know the story of Lucius Malfoy: Liar, traitor and loser. Little children can learn of the fate that awaits anyone stupid enough to challenge people like Albus Dumbledore."

Malfoy stood impassive.

"Really, Potter, I thought you would be more of a challenge than this. Are you trying to bore me into submission?" He raised his wand. "And now… _St-_"

"_Expelliarmus! Stupefy!_"

The wands flew from Lucius Malfoy's hands, and he dropped like a stone to the ground. Harry approached the fallen Death Eater carefully, kicking the wands away. He looked up at Professor McGonagall as the teacher stared furiously down at Malfoy. Her breath was coming in short gasps as she tried to regain her composure following her dash up the hill. After a short time, she looked up at Harry, her expression a mixture of concern and ferocity. Harry thought briefly of a unicorn Hagrid had shown their Care of Magical Creatures class. A new mother, the unicorn had reared up fiercely at the incautious approach of a centaur. The unicorn foal had been oblivious to its mothers fury, but Harry was left with a deep impression of the mothers love. McGonagall was radiating much the same air of concern for her charge.

"Professor," Harry said. "The others. . ."

"Are being assisted in their battle my many of my fellow staff members, Mr Potter," McGonagall replied. "I doubt that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had prepared his forces for such resistance, nor," she allowed herself a small smile. "Nor with the fleet-footedness of Colin Creevey. The instant that the battle began, he ran for help. A most intelligent young man."

"Is anyone hurt?" Harry asked, dreading the answer. McGonagall looked sombre.

"Yes," she said quietly "I don't know the full scale of our suffering, but I saw many fallen as I passed. If only Apparating didn't take it out of me so. . ." McGonagall's voice trailed off, and Harry found himself further in awe of his head of house.

"We all have our strengths and weaknesses, Professor," he said, cautiously. "I mean, there's only one Dumbledore. The rest of us just have to do what we can."

McGonagall looked up at Harry in surprise. "Harry. . ." she began. "Your parents, they would be very proud of you."

*

An emotional reunion behind them, Harry, Ginny, Hermione and Ron listened to Dumbledore, McGonagall and Professor Flitwick discussing the departure of the Death Eaters and the Dementors. 

"Portkeys," Flitwick said. "Simple, but effective." 

"We got one, at least," McGonagall said. She threw a disdainful look towards Lucius Malfoy, who sat sullenly outside the Three Broomsticks. Furious Ministry wizards surrounded him, their ire raised by missing out on more prisoners.

"The simple plans are often the ones that work the best," Dumbledore commented. "And so it seems we have something of a pyrrhic victory. What was the final list of casualties?"

"Six deaths, three of them Aurors placed here by Arthur Weasley, three residents of the town, all of whom took our advice and practised their Defence Against the Dark Arts in case there was another attack," McGonagall said, heavily. "Many more were injured, Rosmerta most seriously. The children are on their way back to school now."

"And yet some remain," Dumbledore said, his shrewd gaze turning on the four friends. "More adventures, Harry?" he asked, forcing a little warmth into his voice.

"What'll happen to Malfoy?" Ron asked, abruptly.

"Ah… Do you refer to Lucius Malfoy, or his son, Mr Weasley?"

"Either. Both. Draco just sat and watched. He watched the whole thing, Professor."

Dumbledore paused for a few seconds before answering.

"There are those that would say he took the sensible option, Mr Weasley. No one would expect an under age wizard to draw arms in a battle such as this. That so many of you did, and yet survived, is nothing short of miraculous."

"And Mr Malfoy?" Hermione asked.

"It would seem he is bound for Azkaban," Professor Flitwick replied. Ron snorted.

"I bet my dad will be ready to help make sure that happens."

"We all do what we can, Mr Weasley," Professor McGonagall said. "A point worth remembering," she added, as Harry flushed red.


	21. Epilogue

**__**

Epilogue

Author's Note: The reference to Guinevere and Lancelot is partly inspired by Arabella's 'Hermione, Queen of Witches' series over at the Sugar Quill. I heartily recommend you read Arabella's works, as they are just sensational.

At first, the wizarding world was on tenterhooks. People saw the outright assault on Hogsmeade as just one more step in the long fight against Voldemort and his forces. However, no more attacks were reported in the Daily Prophet for the remainder of the school year. As Ron remarked a month after the attack, it was as though Voldemort didn't have anyone who could heal his battered army.

*

Hermione and Ron were soon bickering again. Ron argued that Hermione's Patronus was inspired by his own. Hermione said that it had more likely been inspired by her love of medieval legends, especially those of Guinevere and Lancelot, when she was a child. They eventually agreed to discuss the matter in private. By the lake. Alone.

*

A very subdued Draco Malfoy cringed whenever he passed a Gryffindor in the corridor. His father had been held by the Ministry of Magic, and was rumoured to be awaiting the trial that would surely send him to Azkaban. 

*

Madam Rosmerta appeared, to great acclaim, for dinner one night shortly before exams. Harry presented her with a Hagrid-sized bunch of flowers, on behalf of himself and the other students.

"It's a wholly inadequate thank-you," he said. "Especially as you helped protect me most of all. I suspect there'll be plenty of us coming down to the Three Broomsticks once you reopen to say thanks in person."

*

Ron, Hermione and Harry sat their O.W.Ls and the general feeling was that they'd all done well, although their results wouldn't be known until well into the summer holidays. Hermione was, of course, worried about her performance. She didn't seem to mind so much this year, though, instead smiling happily as she lay by the shore of the lake, her head resting against Ron's chest.

The remainder of the Gryffindor Quidditch team had sat their N.E.W.Ts, as had Lee Jordan. Fred was heard to remark that neither he nor George would have qualified to work for themselves with the scores which they felt that they had achieved.

"It's a good job we know the people who run the company," he told Hermione cheerfully at breakfast on the day that their exams finished.

*

Eventually, even Fred and George came to admit that Ginny and Harry were good for one another. The two seemed to bring out sides to each others personalities that had never before been evident. Of course, this wasn't always a good thing. The farewell Quidditch practise on the penultimate day of term saw Harry and Ron revenge themselves on their older teammates for the pondwater trick. Ginny had helped the two of them hide specially treated Filibusters fireworks in the twigs of the departing Gryffindor's brooms, and when the engorged rockets went off, the five players were sent soaring off in opposite directions. George in particular had a struggle to escape punishment when he crash-landed in one of Professor Sprout's herb gardens.

*

Because of the valiant efforts put forth by students of all houses during the battle, Dumbledore announced that all four houses had drawn for the House Cup, a first in the thousand and more years of Hogwarts history.

"Let us remember those who have fallen," the Headmaster said. "Let their sacrifice be remembered, their lives celebrated, and their cause taken on by all those who are prepared to fight evil where-so-ever it may reign."

Harry found his eyes drawn to the Slytherin table. He watched Draco Malfoy give a half-hearted sneer at Dumbledore's words, but even he seemed to be somewhat apprehensive of what lay ahead.

*

The train ride back to Kings Cross was almost as uneventful as it could possibly have been. Hermione smiled at Ron as he paced their compartment in the carriage, saying that he almost wanted something to happen. Harry smiled too, but he knew that he was only a short time away from having to return to Privet Drive, and who knew how long before he saw his friends again.

Ron got his wish. Half an hour out from Kings Cross, a large barn owl appeared by the window. Ginny got up to let him in, and the owl swooped down to land by Harry, who took the message from his leg and stroked the bird gently on the beak. It hooted softly, and took off again, soaring out through the window

"I don't believe it!" Harry gasped, reading the note through a second time. Wordlessly, he handed it to Ron to read.

"Dear Mr Potter… aunt, uncle and cousin going to health farm (Ha!)… entire period of holidays… stay at Weasleys!?! Harry, you're gonna stay with us all summer!"

Ginny squealed in joy, and enveloped Harry in a huge hug. She only let go when Harry started to gasp for air, and then only reluctantly. They grinned massively at one another, unable to believe their luck.

"One thing, though," Ron said, suddenly serious. "Let's get one thing clear, straight from the start, before you get any funny ideas. You're sleeping in my room, all right? No one else's. Mine."

Then Ron found out what it was like to be hit with a Cheering Charm and a Jelly Legs Jinx at the same time.

**__**

The End


End file.
